


The Wall

by make_your_user_a_name



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Canon Compliant, Canon Divergent, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Child Abuse, Comfort, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s05e18 Point of No Return, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Going to Hell, Happy Ending, Hell, Homophobic John Winchester, Homophobic Language, Hunter Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, It's All John Winchester's Fault, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kansas, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscarriage, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Past Child Abuse, Pining, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Protective Bobby Singer, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vampires, Violence, the wall - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/make_your_user_a_name/pseuds/make_your_user_a_name
Summary: “So, what now?” The angel’s voice was deep and steady as always. Dean didn’t hesitate like he thought he would. He didn’t think of an excuse to change the subject or avoid Castiel. He didn’t think of a reason that he could isolate himself and set himself down a path of self-destruction.“I made a promise to Sam. If you’re up for it, and I understand if you aren’t, I know there’s a lot better things for you out there than a broken human, but if you are then--Cas, do you want to hunt with me?” The angel smiled.“Yes, Dean. I’ll hunt with you. If you want me, if you’ll let me, I’ll follow you into the end of the world a million times over.”Dean smiled sadly back at him. “I’ve said it before, Cas, but don’t ever change.”ORInstead of finding Lisa after Sam dies in Swan Song, Dean and Cas hunt together.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 79
Kudos: 309





	1. Confessio

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to @confuzld (tumblr) and @thatsmyphrase (ao3) for beta-ing!!

_I'm woven in a fantasy_  
_I can't believe the things I see_

* * *

They wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t possible. Even Cas, who had been captive to these dicks for centuries couldn’t possibly understand them, couldn’t understand that they could win. 

He’d fought the good fight for years. Saving people across the country. He’d sold his soul, and been dragged to hell. Castiel had pulled him out. He hadn’t trusted angels from the beginning. Sam had been ready to kneel at their feet, but he couldn’t join him. He had fought long and hard to stop their stupid plan. When Cas had joined them, had rebelled for them, he’d thought maybe they actually had a chance. But they didn’t. So this was the only way. And Heaven was going to be the winning side. 

Because Dean was confident of that. If not in anything else, he had to believe that the angels could win, regardless of what it took to get there, it was still better than Lucifer ruling the world. It had to be.

The priest was standing on the street, the lamp above him casting a weird glow over his Bible. His eyes were wide and he looked a little manic. But he would do the trick. Dean walked up to him, not giving him time to give him the God is good speech before he started talking. 

“Hey, I’m Dean Winchester, do you know who I am?” The preacher’s eyes widened and his grip on the Bible in his arms tightened. 

“Dear God!” Dean bit his tongue, tempted to tell the man God didn’t care about him and He never had. He left and He wasn’t coming back. But he didn’t have time, the faster he could say yes to Michael the less chance there was that Sam would find him.

“Listen, I need you to pray to your angel buddies and tell them that I’m here.” The man gulped once, maybe in fear, and then sank to his knees. He began praying, in a nasally, holier-than-thou voice that made Dean want to gouge his own eyes out. But before he had the chance, he heard a different voice. A deep, gravelly voice. The voice of the angel who had pulled him from Hell. The angel he’d stabbed upon meeting, had somehow led to rebellion, had come to be his closest friend. 

“You pray too loud.” He wanted to turn to Cas, to talk to him, to tell him why he was doing this. But before he could, rough hands grabbed at his coat and threw him into the alley. His back hit the bricks hard, and he pushed himself away, subconsciously finding a stance to fight back. 

“What are you, crazy?” He tried to sound in control, but he could feel cold fear start to enter his body. This wasn’t the adorable, awkward angel he normally saw, this was a warrior of Heaven. 

“I rebelled for this?” Cas didn’t give him long before he struck him twice. Dean’s eyes filled with tears from the pain. He shifted his jaw cautiously and almost blacked out as the fractured bone grated against itself. 

The angel’s voice suddenly dropped, and Dean almost missed the next words out of his mouth. “So that you could surrender to them.” He cringed at the disgust, at the disappointment in the angel’s voice. He knew Cas couldn’t understand. But he also knew, and had been ignoring the fact, that this betrayal would hurt the angel for the rest of his immortal life. 

His back hit the wall and the fists struck him again. Pain erupted in his face and across his chest, blinding any rational thought and he felt--no wished--that he was watching this happen from somewhere else. 

“Please.” It was barely possible to speak through the pain, but he did it anyway. Blood dripped into his mouth, he couldn’t tell from what injury, and he let the metallic taste stay. He didn't have the energy to spit it out. 

He couldn’t die, not like this. And he knew Cas was more than capable of killing him right now. The angel’s face was inches from his own, and he could feel the heat from his vessel through his whole body. In a moment of clarity, he wondered if the heat came only from the angel’s anger. He didn’t need body heat, after all. He was only borrowing Jimmy Novak’s body. 

“I gave _everything_ to you, and _this_ is what you give me?” Cas’ voice was low and predatory, and Dean felt himself lost in a haze of pain and fear. Cas grabbed hold of him again and threw him away. Dean knew he deserved to be tossed aside. He was worthless. That’s why he had to say yes. He had nothing else to give, nothing else to add to this fight. And they had to win. 

It wasn’t much of a sacrifice for the world to lose Dean Winchester if he had a chance to stop Lucifer, to have Heaven come out on top. Even if they were pretentious and terrifying and deadly, they had to be better than the army of demons Lucifer had ready to take over the world. 

He slammed into the chain-link fence and landed on the disgusting alley floor.

Broken. 

The angel stalked after him, and he looked up at Castiel’s face. Dark spots swam in front of his eyes, but then the angel’s face came into focus. He expected to find righteous anger. To see Cas’ eyes lit up in fury, to see the rage he had brought on. He expected to see his mouth in a grim line, willing to do whatever it took to stop Dean from saying yes. But he didn’t. 

All he saw were hooded eyes, tired of being hunted, tired of being an outcast among his own kind. He saw disappointment. Because he was the one who taught Cas about free will, about the power of choice, the power of family, and here he was, giving up on all that. He had pulled Cas away from Heaven, and he was about to become their greatest warrior. 

And he knew that he was giving up. That he was being selfish. That he just wanted this damn fight to be over and for as many people as possible to come out of it alive. But he was so tired, and this was the only way out he could see. He just needed his family to see it too. But the look in Cas’ eyes made him waver, for just a moment. And he had to know how far the angel was willing to go to stop him from becoming Michael’s vessel. 

“Do it. Just do it!” His face didn’t change. It remained a mask of pain and disappointment. He thought, just for a moment, that Cas would actually do it. He let himself forget sometimes that Cas wasn’t just an awkward human that followed him around. He was terrifying. He was powerful. He could end Dean right now with barely a thought. His strength was nothing next to Castiel’s. 

He wanted to know him. He wanted to be able to say he was the angel’s best friend, he was someone Cas could trust. He wanted to be able to fall back on him, and he knew that he could trust Cas. But he knew Cas would never see him the same way. He was only human. So if Cas wanted to kill him right now, to stop him from doing something that he thought was the only way, then he had every right. 

A thin trail of blood trickled down his face, but when he tried to lift his arm to wipe it away, he found it too heavy and broken to lift. His eyes tracked Cas, who remained rooted where he stood. 

The angel leaned back, just slightly, and Dean’s eyes dropped to his clenched fist. Slowly, hesitantly, it relaxed at his side. 

“I won’t. I can’t.” His voice was softer, and Dean felt himself relax into his broken body just a little. 

“I have to say yes, Cas. I have to stop this.”

“And I have to stop you. I can’t let you turn yourself over to them, you don’t know what they’re capable of.” Dean’s eyes narrowed and he sat up, leaning his back against the fence and wincing as his bruised ribs ached with a deep breath. 

“What do you mean? I know as well as you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Cas, what are you talking about?” Cas looked to the wall, his eyes studying the graffiti that was barely visible in the dim light. His eyes stayed fixed there for several moments, but Dean didn’t want to push him. He was afraid to push Cas back to the powerful warrior that was throwing him around. 

Cas’ eyes were still on the wall when he began to speak again. “I’m starting to remember things, Dean. Things from a long time ago.”

“Okay?” Dean took a breath and his face contorted in pain, but Cas’ eyes were still on the wall. 

“This wasn’t the first time I rebelled. It’s by far the most severe, likely because I had a very concrete reason to rebel: you. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve rebelled before. I’ve fought back before. I’ve tried to choose humanity over Heaven before, several times. The most clear in my mind is the most recent. It was in 1956, and there was a little girl.” Dean leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Cas’ face. His eyes were far away, but his face was set and grim. His black hair was sticking up at odd angles, but it fit him, it always had. 

“Her name was Mary, or maybe Margaret, that part isn’t clear to me yet. The prophet at the time made a prediction about her, and the angels listened to it without a question. The prophecy said she would, well, it said she would slaughter angels. She would grow to be a witch of great power who knew how to kill us and who would make it her life mission. It was one of the few times angels have been sent to Earth over the centuries. And they sent me. They told me to slaughter her, Dean. She was barely four years old at the time.” Dean let out a sharp breath. The angels were evil, and each day it became clearer to him that they were fighting an enemy without a conscience. 

“I begged my superiors to consider. To wait a few years and see what she would become, but they refused. They said the time to act was now. They commanded the rest of the angels on Earth to leave me to finish the job, as a test. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t kill a four year old child. So they killed her in front of me”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean whispered.

“That’s not all, Dean. I say you don’t know them, because after I refused, I spent the next 6 months being tortured and brainwashed. They wiped it all from my mind, and I returned a loyal soldier. There were at least two more times like that over the years, but neither was as large of a rebellion in the eyes of Heaven. I was never able to make rebellion stick before, they got to me before I could change. But you, Dean, you’ve pulled me from them. You’ve led me to defy Heaven, to fight against them. Maybe it’s being here on Earth again, maybe it’s being with you, maybe it’s being an outcast, but I’m starting to remember everything they did to me. They won’t hesitate to destroy the world. You can’t give yourself to them. So I have to stop you.” Dean nodded, hating himself for the movement as waves of pain washed through his body. 

“Then do it! Kill me.” Cas’ impassive mask melted from his face and his eyes closed briefly. He looked up at the stars, as if looking for an answer among them. When he looked back to Dean, all the anger was gone. Dean couldn’t describe the emotion he saw there, the soft smile, the wide innocent eyes, the wrinkles that almost looked worried, but looked more inquisitive than anything. 

“I can’t do that, Dean. You know I can’t do that.”

“Why not, Cas? Why not? You’ve fought your whole goddamn life for these douchebags, trapped with them, and in the last year, you’ve fought against them. You’ve changed. You’ve rebelled, for real. Are you really going to give that all up because of me? Because I’ll do it. I swear to God, if he’s still listening, if you don’t kill me right now, I will say yes to Michael and I will fight the freaking apocalypse on Heaven’s side. And when I say yes, I’ll be practically dead anyway. So do it. Kill me.”

The angel sighed and reached his hand toward Dean, helping him up. The streetlights felt so far away, but Dean could see every detail of his face in the dark. His eyes were heavy, and he felt like he could slip into unconsciousness at any moment. There was a constant ringing in his ears, but Cas’ voice cut through it easily. 

“You’ve taught me things, Dean. You’ve taught me we always have a choice. And I don’t believe you’re truly set on this choice. So, I have to believe that you’ll make the right one, in the end. I believe in you, Dean Winchester. You haven’t let me down yet, and I don’t think you will.” 

Dean shook his head. Cas and Sam, even Bobby, had almost unending faith in him. And they still didn’t understand; he was going to say yes. He had to. There wasn’t a choice here because he had no other options. 

“Why, Cas? Why do you believe in me?” Cas’ eyes raised to meet him, and Dean could almost feel electricity emanating from the sea of blue. 

“Because, Dean, I love you.” The world spun, and his head spun with it. Everything hurt, and he couldn’t process or understand the word’s that had just come out of Cas’ mouth. They had been said way too matter-of-fact for him to have heard right. Or maybe this was just another instance of Cas not understanding humanity. Or maybe--

“What?” His voice sounded lost, too low and too broken to have come from his mouth.

“I’m not going to kill you, Dean. But I can’t let you do this. I won’t let you destroy your life, destroy Sam’s life, destroy the world. We always have a choice. We’re going to stop Heaven, we are going to stop Hell. But not like this.” The angel’s face was so earnest that Dean almost forgot what he said. But he was sure he had heard it right. He couldn’t just ignore it. 

“Cas, what did you mean?”

“What are you talking about, Dean?” Looking into the clear blue eyes, he saw something else there. Sadness, and regret. Cas had thought he would say it back. And he wanted to, but he couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. His heart rate increased in spite of him, and he considered taking the step, getting over years of internalized homophobia, of self-loathing that wouldn’t let him be happy. But he couldn’t. So he dropped it. 

“We can talk about this, Cas. I’ll give you that much. But don’t think I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go back to Bobby’s.” He thought he heard the angel sigh in relief, but when he met his eyes again his face was as blank as ever. He simply nodded once, and reached down a hand to help Dean up. 

He took it, his muscles groaning in protest and the fresh cuts and bruises covering him screaming for relief. 

“I’ll heal you.” They were so close he could feel Cas’ chest rise and fall. 

“No, Cas. Don’t. I need to remember the people who care about me. I’m still going to say yes to Michael, but you’ve reminded me I can’t do it alone.”

“Dean Winchester, I will never understand humans, least of all you.” 

Cas reached for his arm and let Dean lean against him. He sunk into him, letting the weight fall from his bruised legs. Cas felt so safe. Which should not have been possible, considering he just nearly beat him to death. He barely noticed his stomach turning when Cas flew them back to Bobby’s. 

The first voice he heard was Sam’s. The words swirled in his head, and he wasn’t exactly sure if he was awake or asleep. 

“What the hell happened to him?”

“Me.” 

Cas helped him over to the bed (something in the back of Dean’s mind registered that it was the same bed Adam had been in, and he had no idea where Adam was now) and laid him gently on it. His hand cupped Dean’s face gently before he turned back to Sam. 

“Did you talk him out of it?”

“That remains to be seen. But Dean needs us, Sam. We can do this together. We have to believe in him.”

“I do believe in him.” Dean’s foggy mind barely registered the words, but his cracked lips formed something that could be called a smile. He thought he might have heard the name Adam as he drifted into a real, deep sleep. 

His hand was cuffed to the bed when he woke up. Maybe they had faith in him, but not enough to let him run off again. 

“How you feeling?” He turned to see Sam sitting across from him, puppy dog eyes as wide and annoying as ever. 

“Word to the wise, don’t piss off the nerd angels.” He said it as seriously as he could, but his mind was still stuck on what Cas had said. 

“Cas said he offered to heal you,” Sam said, looking at his hands. Dean decided it would be better to ignore him then try to explain why he needed the bruises, they might help him reconsider. Because none of them needed to know that. 

“So, how’s it going?” 

“Adam’s gone. The angels took him.”

“Where?”

“The room where they took you.”

“God, I hated that place. Are you sure?”

Sam scoffed. “Cas did some recon. That good enough for you?” Dean frowned. He couldn’t quite place the look on Sam’s face.

“Of course, I-”

“There’s several angels guarding it, Dean.” Sam leaned forward in his chair, hands hanging loosely in front of him. “This is an end-of-the-world, hail-Mary kind of thing.”

“Ah, so the usual.” Why was it whenever they finally had a solid plan they had only hours to complete it? “What are you gonna do?”

“Well, for starters, I’m bringing you with.” Dean froze. He was going, to the angels, to Zacariah, and maybe to Michael. 

“Isn’t that a bad idea?”

“Bobby thinks so.” Of course he did. Bobby was the only one with any sense among them. 

“And Cas?”

“Cas seems to have unending faith in you, Dean. He’s pissed. But both of us think you’ll make the right call. Regardless of what that is. I don’t want you to say yes to Michael, Dean. Don’t think that. But I need to put a little more trust in my big brother, ya know?” 

Dean nodded. “Thanks, Sammy. This doesn’t change anything. I’m going to say yes.”

Sam just smiled. “We’ll see.”

They were standing outside a warehouse in Van Nuys, California. And Cas had just said he was going to take on five angels, alone. 

“Cas, I can’t let you do that. It’s suicide.”

“I won’t watch you fail, Dean.”

“What happened to the faith in me? The belief I would make the right call?” Dean was trying to focus on the situation, but Cas was unbuttoning his shirt, and it really wasn’t his fault if his words were a little thoughtless. 

“I believe in you, Dean. But I also know you.”

“Cas, if you’re going to kill yourself for us, I want to talk about what you said back there.” The angel froze, his eyes darting to Sam. He slowly took a box cutter from his pocket and pushed it against his now bare chest. Dean watched his face, watched it remain the same imperturbable mask. 

He carved the sigil in silence and then turned to face the warehouse. 

“Cas, I--”

“I meant it, Dean. Now please, don’t mess this up.” He meant it. Dean had no idea what to do with that information right now. He watched in numb silence as Cas stalked into the building. 

They watched from outside until a blinding white flash lit the inside of the warehouse.

He crept inside, stepping cautiously over the body of an angel with their blackened wings charred onto the floor. The door wasn’t locked. Dean stepped in, drinking in the flawless white paint, the shimmering gold outlines, and the centerpiece of burgers and beer. As his eyes swept the room, they landed on a broken figure leaning against the wall behind the table. 

“Adam! Hey, you okay?”

“You came for me?”

“You’re family.”

“Dean, it’s a trap.” He rolled his eyes. Of course it was.

“Yeah, I figured.” He lifted Adam to his feet and turned around. If he could get his half-brother out of here, then he could say yes and save them all. 

“Dean, please. Did you really think it would be that easy?” Zachariah was standing in the center of the room, looking far too pleased with himself. 

“Did you?” His brother ran up from behind but was easily swept aside, landing heavily in the corner of the room. 

“Where’s your angel boyfriend? Dead?” Dean wanted nothing more than to smack the grin right off of Zachariah ugly mug.

“Shut your damn--”

“You know, Castiel has always given us trouble. But I’ve never seen him like he is with you. It’s funny, really.” Suddenly Adam fell to the ground and Sam collapsed from his sitting position. Dean watched helplessly as blood poured from their mouths. 

“I came here to say yes, you son of a bitch. Let them go.” Zacariah froze, then started to laugh. 

“For all his faith in you, for all little Sammy’s faith in you, you’re just going to let them down? The great Dean Winchester, folding like a cheap suit. I’m impressed, Dean.” His brothers kept choking, barely able to breath. . 

The room started to shake, light filled the air, and Dean met Sam’s eyes. Cas’ words echoed in his head. And in a split second, he made the decision they had known he would make from the beginning. He rammed an angel blade through Zacariah’s throat. 

Adam and Sam were on the floor, weak. He knew they didn’t have time, knew Michael would be here any minute. He rushed to Sam’s side, every part of him saying it was too late, there was no way they could get out. 

He lugged his freakishly tall brother out before coming back for Adam. 

But he was too late. 

Michael’s light had reached fever pitch and the door was closed. There was no way back in. 

“Adam!” he screamed as the light faded. 

When he finally was able to open the door, the room was dark and desolate. 

There was no sign of Michael or Adam. 

Dean had failed. Again. And John Winchester’s other son was gone. 

The drive home was silent, but he knew Sam was going to ask him. Not why he didn’t say yes, his brother seemed to have enough faith in him to understand that.

“I’m sure Cas is fine.” Dean kept his hands tight on the wheel, staring at the road. Sam paused, and then opened his mouth again, this time Dean could feel his eyes boring into the side of his head. 

“What did you mean?” Sam made it sound so innocent. Avoiding what he actually wanted to say. 

“What?”

“What did you need to talk to Cas about?”

“Sam--”

“Please, Dean.” He took a deep breath and tightened his grip on the wheel. 

“Not now.” 

Dean glanced over, ignoring the road. His brother was turned to look out the window, but Dean could still see a faint smile playing on his lips as they drove off into the night.


	2. Iactura

_To pass beyond is what I seek_  
_I fear that I may be too weak_

* * *

“This is suicide, Sam.”

“Yeah, Dean. It is. But it’s our only option and you know it.” He did know it. They had the rings, they had Lucifer’s location, and Sam was ready. And Dean was on board, really, he just couldn’t be on board without a little resistance. 

“Look, Dean, in a few hours, it won’t just be me in here anymore. After that, I’ll be in the cage. And I need you to promise me something.”

“What? That I stop hunting? Go make a life for myself in the real world? That-- That I forget you?” His voice was gruffer than it needed to be, but he didn’t care. He was about to lose his brother, he was entitled. 

Dean looked steadfastly out the windshield, eyes fixed on the road. It was dark, but the sun would be up soon. And they only had a few hours of the journey left. His eyes tracked a raindrop as it slipped down the windshield and he angrily turned on his wipers, watching it splatter into a million pieces as it was dragged across the glass.

“No.” His eyes jerked to his brother, a slight frown on his face.

“What?”

“No. I don’t want you to try and be something you’re not, Dean. I want you to be happy, but not like that. I don’t need you to forget me. Or need you to go find some girl and settle down.”

“Then what do you want from me, Sam?” Sam looked out the window, but Dean saw a single tear fall to his lap. Dean pulled the Impala onto the shoulder and cut the engine. The road was empty, a pure stretch of black asphalt, with nothing around them.

Sam just sat there, but Dean got out of the car, looking up at the stars. He couldn’t see them that well and the moon, though full, was also dim. He watched the dark shadows of clouds slink across it, darkening the world below. The creak of the car doors (he really had been meaning to oil them this time) made him turn around to see Sam, leaning against the car and staring up at the stars. 

Without a word, he reached in the back seat, grabbed two beers and tossed one to Sam. He didn’t need to look and see if his brother had caught it, he knew him too well. 

They climbed onto the hood of the Impala, both wincing slightly at the heat still radiating from inside her. They looked into the inky black sky, watching the clouds race across the moon, appreciating the darkness, the absence of light more than the stars they couldn’t see. 

“Sam, I’m going to look for ways to break you out. I won’t promise you not to try.” He took a drink, letting the liquid rest in his mouth for a moment before letting it slide down his throat. 

“I’m not going to make you promise that. I’ll ask you not to, hell, I’ll beg you not to. I want you to move on, to let me be, but I know you won’t. And I can live with that. Just don’t let it consume you.”

“That’s what you wanted me to promise?” Dean laughed softly. 

“No-- well, not exactly. That’s part of it. But not all of it.” Sam hesitated, and Dean looked over at him, studying his brother’s face in the dark night. His eyes were halfway closed, like he was thinking, wondering how he could say this. 

“I’m listening.”

“Dean, I want you to hunt with Cas.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to be alone.” Dean lifted himself onto his elbows, taking another drink. Sam sat up and looked at him, his eyes shining slightly in the dark. 

“What about Bobby?” 

“I’m not asking you to not talk to anyone else. But you can’t just leave Cas. He’s your best friend, Dean. And after this he’ll be all alone. He rebelled from Heaven, he’s lost his entire family, and just for us. You can’t just cast him off in the wind because you’re broken up that I’m in Hell. I can’t let you do that.”

“I won’t, Sammy. But he’s not a hunter.” Sam sat up and hopped off the hood of the car, leaning his arms on it and facing Dean. 

“Then teach him! Please, Dean. This is all I’m asking you. Just promise that you and Cas will have each other.” Sam still had tears in his eyes, and Dean hated it. He hated that he was losing his little brother and that Sam was being so goddamn reasonable about it. 

_Because, Dean, I love you._

“Sam, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” 

“What are you talking about? He’s powerful, he’s a warrior, he’d be a great hunter.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Sam was silent, he turned away from the car, running a hand slowly through his hair. 

“Cas talked to me, Dean. He’s worried you hate him.”

“Why would he think that?” Dean’s voice rose slightly as he spoke.

“He didn’t say. Look, I don’t know what’s going on. But it’s Cas, man. He’s your best friend. I won’t let you lose him when I’m in the cage with Lucifer.” Dean considered telling him, right then. Telling him that he wanted Cas to be more than his best friend. That he didn’t know how to navigate this, how to handle it. That Cas had told him something and he wanted to say it back but he didn’t and now the angel was terrified of losing him. But instead, he just nodded. 

“I won’t lose him, Sam. I’ll teach him to hunt.”

“Swear to me, Dean.” Dean got off the hood of the car, setting his bottle down. He walked to where his brother stood, back to him, looking into the woods lining the highway. 

Sam turned to face him, and Dean could see the tears streaking his face. 

“I promise. I promise, Sammy. Okay?” Sam nodded, reaching his sleeve up to wipe his face. 

Dean pulled him toward him, wrapping his arms around his younger brother, maybe for the last time ever. 

“I’m scared, Dean.”

“I know. It’s gonna be okay.” Sam hugged him tightly and then pushed him back, laughing a little. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be okay.” 

In the long hours that followed, Dean didn’t have time to think about what he had promised Sam. He didn’t have time even to think about what Cas had said. He watched his brother be taken over by Lucifer, watched him stand on the battlefield of Armageddon, facing their half-brother. He watched Bobby die, watched Castiel rebel again for them before being vaporized, both fighting with him when they saw no hope. He watched Sam strike him over and over, unable to overpower the Devil. He watched his face shift, watched his brother come back, watched his eyes widen and his face contort in pain. 

Then he watched the only family he had left, Sam and Adam, fall into the pits of Hell. 

And now he was alone. Completely alone. The only people he’d ever been able to call family had all been taken from him one by one until he had nothing left. 

He leaned against the car, face stiff and swollen, and looked at the sky. It was clear and blue, a beautiful day for the apocalypse. The field beyond the cemetery was dry and flat, the hole to Hell having closed. He idly watched a grasshopper struggle to climb a piece of straw that lay in front of him. It didn’t seem to matter if there was anything at the top, the bug would progress a few centimeters, slip, and keep going. 

His whole body felt numb. He knew the pain would come later, the loss, the anger, the denial. But right now he felt blank. He had nothing to do, nothing to say and no one to say anything to. He didn’t even know where to go next. 

Blood had started to close his eyes shut when he heard a noise to his left. He turned and saw Castiel. The angel looked clean, calm, and most importantly: alive. Cas was alive. 

Cas reached down and laid a hand to Bobby’s head, and the hunter’s still chest rose as his lungs filled with air. He stayed on the ground, breathing deeply. Castiel turned and walked quickly to Dean, laying two fingers on his forehead. Dean felt a surge of warmth as the physical pain faded from his body. 

The angel was smiling sadly at him, his eyes fixed on Dean, remaining as stoic and immovable as ever.

“Bobby, is he?”

“He’s resting. He’ll be fine, Dean.”

“Cas, are you,” he hesitated, it was too crazy, but he had to ask, “are you God?”

“It’s a nice compliment, but no,” Cas said, reaching down a hand to help Dean up. 

“Sam’s-- he’s--” The loss slapped him in the face and he felt his eyes welling up. Sam was gone. Really gone. And there wasn’t any way he could pull him out; there was no way he could save him. He was trapped with Lucifer and Michael for eternity in the worst corner of Hell. 

“I’m sorry, Dean.” The angel was tilting his head in that old familiar way of his, his eyes glued to Dean. He bit his lip, forcing back the tears and trying to get rid of the tightness in his throat. He almost took a step forward, almost leaned into Cas, wrapping his arms around him and forgetting everything else. But a cough stopped him. 

“Dean, Cas, you okay? What happened?” Cas’ eyes left Dean and he turned to follow the voice.

“We’re okay. You died, Bobby. Cas brought you back.” The older hunter nodded slowly. 

“So we did it then? We stopped the apocalypse.” 

“Yeah, we did it.” Dean turned away from them both and jerked open the door to the Impala. He jammed the keys in the ignition and looked at them, daring them to stop him. Then he drove away, intent on finding some dive bar and drinking himself into oblivion. 

He didn’t remember the drive, or choosing the bar, or sitting down and ordering a drink. 

But he was sitting on a stool that was just a little too short for the bar staring at the face of an older man with dark skin that shone copper in the light, so he must have gotten here somehow. 

“Rough night?”

“You could say that,” he replied, taking the shot in front of him through gritted teeth. 

“I’m Daniel,” the man behind the bar said. 

“Dean.”

“What happened? Pretty lady decide she was better off without you?” Dean squinted into his drink and then looked up at him. His hands were busy wiping down a glass, but he was grinning widely, and there was genuine compassion on his face. 

“Nah. My-- my brother--” he trailed off, took the second shot from the bar, and rubbed his eyes. 

“My brother is sick.”

“You guys are pretty close then, huh?” He poured another shot and Dean held the glass, swirling the liquid inside.

“Yeah. I practically raised the kid, and now-- Now there’s nothing I can do to help him.” His voice broke and he hated himself for it. For breaking down in front of a stranger. For letting him see his weakness. 

The man nodded sympathetically, but didn’t say anything. 

“I just-- I feel like I’ve failed him. I know that doesn’t make sense. But I’m going to have to live without him. And there’s no way I can save him.”

“Losing people is never easy, Dean. But your brother, he’ll want you to be happy, to live your life. And he could still get better.” Dean laughed, a short, bitter laugh, then took the third shot. 

“Sammy would want me to be happy. But he’s not getting better. There’s no saving him from this.” Daniel nodded slowly, and passed him another shot. 

“This one’s on the house,” he said, before turning to help another customer. 

“Poor Dean Winchester, all alone in the world.” He turned to see a woman sitting at the bar next to him. She smirked at him and then shut her eyes. When she opened them, they were black. 

“What do you want, bitch?” Dean said, reaching for Ruby’s knife. 

“Let’s not be nasty, Dean. There’s a bar full of people here, do you want to stab an innocent girl with this many witnesses?” He drew his hand back from the knife and glared at her. 

“So, who sent you? Crowley? Some other demon?”

“I’m here cuz I got here first. Sam’s gone now, and a lot of us, well, we want to be free. Free of all hunters, but especially the Winchesters.” Before Dean could answer, before he could even go for the knife, she pulled a gun from her waistband and pointed it at him--below the bar, where no one could see it. 

“Get up. Go outside.” Dean pulled out his wallet and threw money down on the counter, nodding at Daniel. Then he walked outside, the girl trailing close behind. 

He made his way calmly into the dark alley behind the bar and then stood and faced her. His arms spread and he looked her in the eye, stance wide and ready.

“Alright, then. You want to shoot me? Shoot me.” She paused, holding the gun lightly at her side, and then she started laughing, the sound echoing off the walls. 

“Do it!” 

“No.”

“Why the hell not?” She looked him up and down and then shrugged. 

“You know what, Dean? I came here because I wanted you to die. And just for fun, really. But I’m not going to give you the satisfaction. I’m going to make you live, alone. Without little Sammy. I want to let the loneliness, the pain, the loss, the misery, eat you alive.” The demon laughed again, black eyes glinting in the street light. 

“Do it, you bitch!” She laughed again and turned away, tucking the gun into her waistband. 

“Goodbye, Dean.” 

He watched her go, letting his hands fall uselessly to his sides. Then he fell, collapsed onto his knees, staring blankly at the spot the demon had been. Tears fell thick and fast from his eyes but he didn’t care, didn’t want to stop them. He gasped as his lungs sought air. For several minutes, he just stayed there, empty and broken. 

He heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t turn, he was too tired, but he knew who it was.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.” A heavy hand rested on his shoulder and he leaned his face into it. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Cas squeezed his shoulder.

“No, you aren’t.” Dean bit his lip, tempted to lie again. 

“No, I’m not.” He stood up and turned around, standing toe-to-toe with Cas. 

“So, what now?” The angel’s voice was deep and steady as always. Dean didn’t hesitate like he thought he would. He didn’t think of an excuse to change the subject or avoid Castiel. He didn’t think of a reason that he could isolate himself and set himself down a path of self-destruction. 

“I made a promise to Sam. If you’re up for it, and I understand if you aren’t, I know there’s a lot better things for you out there than a broken human, but if you are then--Cas, do you want to hunt with me?” The angel smiled. 

“Yes, Dean. I’ll hunt with you. If you want me, if you’ll let me, I’ll follow you into the end of the world a million times over.” 

Dean smiled sadly back at him. “I’ve said it before, Cas, but don’t ever change.” 

They walked together back to Baby, neither really sure what to say. They had just stopped Armageddon, after all. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It just felt _right_. 

They got in the car together and Dean didn’t protest when Cas got in the passenger seat. He didn’t question it, but it hurt. That’s where Sam should be, that’s where his brother should be. His partner in all this crazy shit. The one person he could actually count on, had been able to count on for years. Cas looked up at him and seemed to guess where his thoughts were.

“I can meet you tomorrow, if that would be better.” Dean nodded and Cas turned to go.

“Wait, Cas. That’s not what I… Don’t-- I mean--- can you stay? I don’t think I should be alone.”

“Of course,” Cas said simply. They both settled into the car, and Dean went to start it before pausing. 

“Hey, Cas, where did Bobby go?” 

“I believe he’s staying at the motel down the road. He wanted to stay and make sure you were okay, but he’s planning on returning home tomorrow.” Dean slipped the key in the ignition and turned to face Cas. 

“I guess we’ll stay there too.”

“We?”

“Relax,” Dean smiled slightly, and it hurt, “We can get a double.” Cas looked over at him with a look somewhere between embarrassed and grateful. 

“I don’t sleep,” he retorted; Dean just laughed. 

Cas wasn’t a talkative angel. But the whole ride to the motel he filled the silence with his low voice. He talked of beauty, of Earth, of humans--but it didn’t really matter what he said, Dean was just glad there was something to occupy his mind. His grasp on reality, on sanity was frail at best, and classic rock just wouldn’t do it this time. If Cas wasn’t there, if he wasn’t talking, Dean was sure he would have driven off the road.

He was too tired to make a face at the receptionist when she offered them a queen, he let Cas take over and ask for a double. He followed Cas to the room, watching him unlock the door, step into the room, and stand in the middle of it, as if unsure what to do next. After a minute standing in the cold night air, he stepped into the room behind Cas. 

He didn’t bother changing, just kicked off his shoes and slumped onto the nearest bed. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He rolled onto his back to see Cas looking down at him. 

“Like, I said, I don’t sleep.” Dean gestured at the chair tucked into the small desk by the window. 

“You could, uh,” he paused. He didn’t want to make this weird for Cas. But tonight he needed to feel safe. He needed to feel like there was someone there for him, someone watching his back like Sam would have. Sam, who was--

_Thinking like that won’t help._

“I could watch over you.” Cas’ face was completely blank, maybe with exhaustion from being vaporized by an archangel, but more likely because he didn’t want to show any emotion, not now. 

“Yeah. You could watch over me.” 

Cas pulled up the small chair to the foot of Dean’s bed and folded his hands in his lap. His trenchcoat hung limply at his sides, but the rest of his outfit was immaculate. His tie was loose around his throat, but it looked purposeful, and his suit jacket fell perfectly into place. His hair, of course, was as messy as ever. 

“Dean, I know he wouldn’t want you to look for him. But I’ll help you find a way to bring him back, if you want.” Dean’s eyes were heavy and he could feel sleep just minutes away. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think he would’ve wanted it.” The pillow was so soft, and the weight of his body sunk into the bed so easily. The adrenaline had finally started to fade from his system, leaving only the warm buzz of the liquor. 

“What do you want, Dean?” His brain sought an answer in the encroaching darkness of sleep. Why would it matter what he wanted anyway? But the answer was so clear, so easy. It was one of the only things he had ever wanted. The _only_ thing he had ever wanted, really, until Castiel pulled him from Hell. 

“I want him back, Cas. I want my brother back.” 

“Then we’ll bring him back.”


	3. Furorem

_And with each passing day_  
_I feel a little more like something dear was lost_

* * *

“Tomorrow, Cas.” The angel was leaning against the wall pouting mutinously, and at Dean’s words he straightened up, leaning forward.

“Dean, we’ve been here for five days. We need to move on. You need to move on.”

“I can’t--” Dean stopped, looking down at his hands. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, feet planted firmly on the floor. But with Cas towering over him he felt like a small child being scolded for stealing candy. 

“I know. You can’t leave your brother.” Cas’ eyes were narrowed and he could tell he was angry. He knew he was being difficult. But he looked straight at Cas’ bright blue eyes (whether or not his eyes dropped to Cas’ lips for a second wasn’t anyone's business) and this time it was the angel who looked away, face softening slightly. 

“Dean, Sam’s not here. He’s gone. And I know I said we could get him back, but it will take time. And you need to focus on other things, to move on, to heal.” 

“I am healing” 

“We’re leaving, Dean.” The angel grabbed Dean’s duffel bag and stalked from the room, leaving Dean alone on the bed. The blood in his veins boiled as he looked around the room, determined not to move. Cas walked back in the room and folded his arms, fixing Dean with a glare.

“If you don’t come out right now, I’ll drive.” Dean scowled but stood up. No one drives Baby except him. And Sam…

He slipped into the driver’s seat, running his hands over the familiar leather of the wheel. Leaving this town felt like giving up. Part of him knew that wasn’t rational, but he didn’t care. 

Still, Cas was right, it was time to go. Just not quite yet. 

“Dean, the highway is that way.” Dean didn’t answer. 

Cas didn’t say another word for the rest of the drive. And contrary to expectations, he didn’t chastise Dean when they pulled up to their destination. 

He just laid a hand gently on his shoulder and said, almost in a whisper, “I’ll go with you.” 

Dean shook his head but reached up a hand to squeeze Cas’. Then he stepped out of the car and walked out onto the dry, empty field. The cemetery hadn’t changed, even with the battle between two archangels happening just days before. There were no scorch marks, no giant crater in the Earth, no sign to show that a gate to Hell had opened. Not only a gate to Hell, but a gate to the most guarded cage in Hell. 

Well, no physical signs anyway. The minute Dean stepped out of the car he could feel something in the air. An electric charge, a reminder of the power that had been here. 

He breathed in the air, choking slightly as it buzzed in his lungs. Then he walked out into the middle, right where Sam had given his life for the world. 

His fingers wrapped around the silver ring on his hand, and he felt the loss stab him sharply. 

The ring had been in the ashes, barely visible among the charred bits of the house that were scattered everywhere. His dad had yelled at him, saying it was a disgrace for him to be digging in them. But he had to look. Even as a four-year-old kid he knew their mom was gone, and he had to find something, anything, to remember her by. The ring had still been hot, but it was intact. Somehow it had survived the fire when everything around it had perished. His mother had left it on the nightstand, if she was wearing it, it would have been lost. 

When he’d emerged from the ruined house he’d been covered in filth. His skin shone through only where tears had spilled down his face, clearing the dirt away. The ring was far too big for his small fingers, so he clutched it in his hand. He’d had it with him ever since.

Now, as he stood in the cemetery, he slowly worked it off his finger and set it to the side. He knelt on the ground and started digging. The dirt felt gritty in his hands. It was dry and sandy and it rubbed against the cuts and bruises still covering his skin. He dug until dirt lined the inside of his fingernails and his back was cramping from bending over. The hole was about two feet deep but just a few inches wide.

Hands shaking slightly, he picked up the ring. He gently pressed the ring to his mouth. Before he could reconsider, he dropped the ring, watching it tumble into the Earth. 

“I’ll get you out, Sammy. But for now…” He took a deep breath and started filling the hole with dirt. “For now, goodbye.”

Cas was watching him with curious eyes when he got back in the car. The angel’s eyes dropped to his hand briefly, and Dean hated that he was observant enough to notice the change. But Cas stayed silent, just watching him with big eyes. 

They stopped at the end of the day at the first motel they saw. Where they were didn’t really matter. They had no destination in mind, and they hadn’t had time to look for a hunt. Dean focused on getting out of Kansas. 

When they got in the room, Dean tiredly dropped his bag and shrugged off his shirt. He ran his hand slowly through his hair and dropped onto the bed to take off his shoes. He’d unlaced them both and was standing up when he saw Cas’ face. The angel was standing in the middle of the room, eyes darting around and hands swinging at his side. His face was slightly pink, and he was avoiding Dean’s eyes. Dean dropped his shoes and pulled his toothbrush from his bag before walking over to Cas.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Yes.” Cas’ voice was tight and as Dean got closer his eyes landed on the ceiling and stayed there. 

“Are you mad at me or something?”

“No.” Dean had never seen Cas like this. He was unsure and awkward and bumbling and--actually, he had seen him like this. When he’d tried to get him laid that one time. 

He looked down at his shirtless chest and cursed quietly. Then he walked back to the duffel and pulled a t-shirt from his bag before wandering into the bathroom. 

His eyes found themselves in the mirror. They were rimmed with red and he already had thick bags under his eyes. The rest of him looked disheveled too, out of place. How Cas had been putting up with him, he had no idea. 

Without thinking, he pulled off his jeans. He normally slept in his briefs, and he was tired of collapsing into bed still wearing them. He’d been doing it all week. So tonight, Cas was just going to have to deal.

_And you want to see his reaction._

He shoved the thought away. He really didn’t want to hurt Cas. And he already had, he knew that. But Cas would get over this soon enough, and Dean wanted him too. Cas didn’t deserve to be with someone like him, he deserved to be happy. So Dean wouldn’t stop him from being happy. 

When he walked back into the room, Cas was standing right where he left him staring blankly at the wall. 

“You gonna stand there all night, Cas? Because, I need to sleep. I look and feel like shit.”

“You look--” The angel took a deep breath and turned to face him. The tips of his ears turned crimson and his eyes dragged slowly over Dean. But he quickly got himself under control. 

“Do you want me to stay, Dean? I can go somewhere else.” Dean smiled cheekily, his pulse quickening slightly despite his exhaustion. 

“Nah, Cas. Stay.” Cas nodded and sat on the bed closer to the door. Dean slipped under the covers and felt himself relax. It had been difficult to sleep in the last week, but with Cas’ steady presence it had been much easier than it could have been. He could fall asleep, at least. But he found himself waking in the night screaming from nightmares he couldn’t even remember. And Cas was always there, ready to soothe him, to help him. 

He met little resistance as he fell into unconsciousness. 

In the morning, he woke early. But he felt a little better, a little more in control of his actions. 

Cas wasn’t sitting on the bed and he felt the panic rise in him briefly before he saw him sitting on the floor. He was leaning against the wall, legs crossed and a laptop balanced on his knees.

“I found us a case,” he said without looking up. Dean groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

“That’s great, Cas. But I’m gonna need coffee before you start throwing details at me.” Cas stood up and rolled his eyes. Then there was a swishing sound and the angel was gone. A minute later he reappeared with a styrofoam cup in his hand. 

Dean took it and felt the caffeine slowly start to wake him up. Cas hadn’t put any milk or sugar in, and the bitter drink made him cringe. But it had been a sweet gesture, and Dean wasn’t going to admit he didn’t drink coffee black, so he drank it anyway. 

There was a faint glow behind the curtains from the light outside their door that lit the outside of the motel, but beside that sky was dark. Dean yawned but sat up in the bed a little straighter.

“Alright, Cas. What’s this case?” 

“At least three people in Oroville, California have died of exsanguination in the last two weeks.” Dean waited for him to go on, but he just stood there, staring at him.

“So, what? You’re thinking vamps?” 

“Vampires do drink the blood of humans.” Dean rolled his eyes, but to be fair, Cas wasn’t a hunter.

“You got anything else? Were there bite marks on the vics? Any connection between them?” Cas’ face fell and he looked at his feet.

“Hey, Cas. You did great. And we can figure all that out when we get there.” Dean grabbed the gun from under his pillow and threw it in his duffel. Then he looked around for anything else he would have left in the room. 

“Well, we gotta get going. We spent all of yesterday driving in the opposite direction so it’s a long drive.” Cas nodded and turned around.

“Wait, Cas, don’t go winging out of here. You’re coming in the car with me.” Cas squinted at him but he nodded once. 

Dean stood up, letting the covers fall. Cas blushed, looked away, grabbed the duffel, and went to the car. 

Which of course meant he had taken all of Dean’s clothes with him. Dean chuckled quietly and reached his hand down to twirl the ring around his finger out of habit. But it wasn’t there. His breathing hitched and his lips drew into a thin line. 

It wasn’t there. It was buried where his brother had left him. His stupid little brother that had sacrificed himself for the world. It had been Dean’s job to protect him, it always had. To look after him, to teach him, to be there for him. And he hadn’t found a way to stop this. He should have found a way to stop this. 

Dean found himself standing rooted to the ground, his whole body quivering. He wasn’t crying. Maybe there weren’t tears left or maybe he was more pissed than anything else, but his eyes stayed dry. He clenched his fist and rubbed his finger where the ring should have been. 

He was still standing there when Cas stalked back in, probably to see what was taking him so long. The angel took one look at his face and crossed the room. He wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him close. Even in his rage, in his misery, he blushed slightly as Cas’ body pressed against his own and silently wished he had worn his jeans to bed. 

Anger filled him and he stood there with his arms locked at his sides, willing Cas to let go, to leave him alone. But Cas hung on, and eventually he let his weight fall into the angel’s arms. The rigidity left his body and he let Cas hold him, just for a minute. 

Then he shrugged him off gently and walked to the car in nothing but his briefs and a t-shirt to grab some clothes for the day. He needed his layers after all. 

When he walked back in the room, Cas was looking at him in confusion but understanding dawned in his eyes when he saw what Dean was holding. His cheeks were a little pink, but Dean could honestly pin it on any number of things at the moment (the hug, he was still only half-dressed, the fact he’d just walked outside like that) so he ignored it. 

When they finally got on the road, the sun was rising in the sky and the day was beginning to brighten. It was over 24 hours to Oroville, and without a second driver, it took two days. But the long hours on the road flew by. He and Cas fell easily into a pattern of conversation. Simple, light conversation, steering clear of sensitive topics, but keeping each other company. They got there long after the sun had sunk, defeated below the horizon, and Dean checked into the hotel blurry-eyed. 

“We can go interview the sheriff.” Cas’ gravelly voice sounded oddly out of place in the quiet night and Dean turned from where he was unlocking the door.

“Cas, it’s the middle of the night.”

“People are dying. I thought we were working the case.”

“You can’t just show up at his house this late.” Dean finally got the lock open and he stepped into the room. 

“C’mon. We’ll go check it out in the morning.” Cas walked past him into the room with a tight nod. He followed the angel inside and shut the door with a soft click behind them. 

He woke up early again, feeling like he hadn’t slept at all. Cas was leaning against the window, just standing and staring at Dean. It should have been creepy, Dean knew that. But it wasn’t.

The angel walked forward and handed him a hot cup of coffee.

“I figured you would need this.”

“How did you know when I would wake up?” The angel shrugged.

“I could sense it.” Dean shut his eyes tightly and took a sip of coffee. 

“So… uh, let’s split up today. I’ll go check out the vics if you want to question the sheriff.” Cas’ jaw tightened a little and he went to sit at the table outside the window. The faint morning light rested directly on him like a spotlight, making him stand out from the rest of the room. Dean waited for a response, but the angel just sat there. 

“Cas?”

“Perhaps it would be better if we didn’t split up.” Dean laughed softly. 

“Yeah, sure. I forget you’re new at this.” Cas glared at him, but Dean ignored it. It was too early. 

After Dean had the chance to wake up a bit, he grabbed his suit from his duffel. He put it on and fixed his tie in the mirror, and then turned to look the angel over. His trench coat was baggy and his tie hung loosely around his throat. His dress shirt was coming untucked from his slacks. The perfect picture of a put-together FBI agent. 

“Cas, c’mere.” The angel stood warily and walked over to him. 

“Alright. You’re gonna have to lose the trench coat.” Cas frowned but obediently shed the coat. Dean couldn’t help but smile at how small he looked without it. 

“Okay, that’s a little better.” Dean looked him up and down again and took a step closer. 

“Tuck your shirt in.” The angel looked down and tucked the shirt in neatly. Dean could feel his heart pounding and he wondered if Cas could hear it, could see the blood rising in his cheeks. He took another step forward and raised his hands to the tie around Cas’ throat, slowly tightening it.

He let his hands linger for just a minute, sure his face was bright red. Cas just looked at him, lips parted slightly and head cocked to the side. But he was sure he could see a hint of pink in his cheeks. 

Dean cleared his throat and stepped back.

“There, that’ll work.” He walked out of the room before he did something else stupid. 

They drove in silence to the coroner’s office. 

Dean walked up to the young woman behind the desk and pulled out his badge. 

“Hi, I’m Agent Williams and this is my partner Agent Ehart. We’re looking into the recent string of murders.” Cas stood there, not bothering to pull out the fake badge Dean had made him. The girl didn’t seem to care though. 

“I’m Stacey. Thank God you’re here agents, I’m afraid we’re all kind of at a loss. If you’ll follow me.” She walked through a narrow hallway into the morgue, the click of her high heels amplified by the walls. Dean breathed in the disgusting, sterilized air and sighed. It was good to be working again. The pain, the knot in his stomach, had faded to the background of his mind. 

Stacey pulled out the first body and gestured to two other doors, “The other two are in there agents. I have a lot of work to get back to, if you guys are okay here alone?” Dean nodded with a smile and then stepped forward to pull back the sheet. 

His eyes widened and he inadvertently cringed. The man’s stomach was completely ripped apart. He looked like Dean had when he’d been dragged to Hell. 

“Christ, Cas. The cause of death was listed as exsanguination?” 

“Yes.” He looked up and saw the angel holding a manilla folder.

“But, it says here that in addition to being drained of blood, the victim was also missing his heart and liver when he was found.” Dean frowned and walked over to the other two freezers. The vics looked about the same, though more torn up if possible. All three were male, and all three were in their thirties. 

“Any connection between the vics listed in that file?” Cas shook his head. 

“Other than their age and gender, it doesn’t seem so.” 

“Well, let’s go see the sheriff, then.” Dean tapped his fingers thoughtfully against his leg. It was possible this was just some wanna-be Hannibal Lecter. The attacks had been vicious, but they could have been human. Still, they were here, so they might as well check it out. 

In the car, he pulled out the flask from his jacket and took a sip of the dark liquor before Cas got in. He was dealing with the pain, working through it, but he didn’t need Cas to see that. 

They stood outside the station and Cas reached to open the door.

“Wait, Cas. Before we go in there, this time, you gotta play the part. Do you have the badge I gave you?” Cas tapped his pocket and nodded.

“Good. Okay, when I introduce us, you have to pull it out, okay? Show we’re from the FBI.”

“Last time I did that, I held it upside down.” Dean laughed at the memory.

“Right, well, we’ll stay clear of that this time.” He held the door open for Cas, and then followed him inside. 

The sheriff was fairly young for having such an important job. Her hair was jet black and short. As they walked closer, the sun shining through the open doors caught on her silver nose ring. 

“Sheriff,” Dean paused.

“Moore. Camila Moore. What can I help you boys with?”

“I’m Agent Williams and this is my partner. We’re with the Bureau.” Dean pulled out his badge and turned to see Cas was already carefully unfolding his.

“I’m Agent Ehart. We’re looking into the murders of Nathaniel Miller, Damian Carter, and Mike Canmore.” Dean looked over at Cas, trying to conceal his surprise . He looked calm, professional and collected. His lips curled up in a soft smile. He had to hand it to the guy, he was a fast learner. His eyes came back into focus and he realized the sheriff was speaking. Great, he’d been worried Cas was gonna screw this up and now it was him. 

“--all grew up here. I knew ‘em my whole life. It’s really horrible.” 

“Do you have a theory on what happened?” Dean asked. 

“I guess it’s just some psycho, maybe even a serial killer. I mean, who kills people, steals their organs, and then drains their blood?”

“Could this be some sort of black market thing?” Dean felt Cas shift beside him at the question, but the angel didn’t say anything. 

“Don’t think so. The cuts were savage, nowhere near surgical enough to make selling the organs plausible. And blood can’t be harvested like that and then be sold.” 

“Right, well, thank you for your time sheriff. If there’s any developments, or any cases that are weird in town, just let us know.” Dean handed her a business card with one of his number’s on it, and then turned to leave. He had to grab Cas’ arm and drag him with him, the angel was just standing and staring quizzically at the sheriff. 

“Ya know, Cas, she could be right. This might not be our kind of thing.”

“She was sad, Dean.” Dean stopped walking and turned to face him. 

“What?”

“Her mind was dark. Like she’d experienced great loss. Like yours, but not to the same extreme.” Dean ignored the last thought. He knew he was hurting, Cas knew he was hurting. They didn’t need to talk about it. 

“People in her town are dying, Cas. They’re dying bloody. And like she said, she knew them. I’m sure that’s all it is.” 

“Maybe you’re right,” Cas said. Dean shook his head and kept walking. 

“Let’s go back to the motel, look for a connection between the vics. There has to be one besides what we know. And tonight we can hit up a local bar and talk to people who knew them.” Dean knew he was going to have to do most of the research without Sam here. He was not looking forward to it. 

“Maybe you can go to the bar alone.” Dean looked over at Cas and saw him sulking before he got into the car. He had some idea what was running through his head, he didn’t exactly have an admirable moral past when it came to dingy small-town bars. 

“Nope. You’re coming with me. We’re working, Cas. It’ll be more fun with you there anyway.” Dean was staring at the road, but he thought he saw Cas smile out of the corner of his eye. 

This was a weird case. 


	4. Dolor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions baby death, miscarriage

_The path that I have chosen now_  
_Has led me to a wall_

* * *

There was a dull ache in his stomach. Dean reached for his flask and tilted it up, but there was nothing left in it. He pressed his palms into his eyes and stood up, reaching for the extra bottle he kept in his duffel. But that was empty too. 

He looked up to see Cas sitting at the table and staring at him from across the room. He’d put his trenchcoat back on as soon as they walked in the door, and one of Dean’s old laptops lay discarded in front of him. 

“I’ve got to make a run,” Dean started. 

“Dean--” He cut him off with a glare. Now was not the time for a lecture. 

“I’ll be right back.” Cas stood and blocked the door. 

“I’m not letting you destroy yourself. I won’t watch you kill yourself.” Dean scoffed and tried to push past him, but the angel was immovable. His face softened and he seemed to relent a little. “We’re going to a bar tonight to get more information, you can wait until then.” 

There was a slight tremor in Dean’s hand, and his throat was dry. But he nodded, returning to sit on his bed and pull up the files he had been looking at. 

“I think I got something, Cas.” The angel walked over, a look of interest masking the look of anger he had been wearing. 

“Six years ago, Damian Carter was supposed to get married.”

“I thought he was married.” 

“Right, he was. But before he met his wife, he and his girlfriend were pretty serious. Like, set a date, a venue, and were ready to exchange vows. He ran out of the church before she walked down the aisle.” Cas’ eyes met him, and Dean felt himself slipping into the sea of blue. It took the pain away almost as well as the whiskey did. He shook his head to clear it and looked back at his computer screen. 

“Anyway, seven months ago, Nathanial Miller also left a girl at the altar. And just one week ago, three days before Mike Canmore was killed, he left his fiancée on the day of their wedding.” He shut his laptop and looked up at Cas expectantly. 

“What kind of monster goes after men who’ve left women at the altar, Dean?” Dean shrugged and leaned back on the bed, his mind still spinning and a slight headache building. 

“I don’t know. Could be a spirit, but that leaves the question of how it’s getting around. And why is it taking the blood, heart, and liver? Maybe some kind of whacked-out vamp. I don’t know any monsters with this M.O., but if you do, I’m all ears.”

“It was never necessary for me to know monster lore from every culture. My superiors left me with the basics, the most standard.” 

Dean looked up at him and squeezed his eyes shut to try to get rid of the buzzing in his ears. “Thought you angels knew everything,” he said dryly. Cas breathed out heavily and sat next to Dean on the bed.

“Let me help you.” 

“You are helping me. We’re working the job.”

“No, I mean let me take away some of the pain. You need to get some sleep.”

“I’ll sleep tonight, Cas,” Dean muttered.

“Please.”

“Fine.” Cas placed two fingers on Dean’s forehead and his eyes glowed softly. Dean felt the headache fade, and his head started to clear. But before he could find any clarity in thought, he was asleep. 

A few hours later, he was awake again. And as soon as his eyes were open, he felt an emptiness fill him. To feel this empty, was a strange feeling. Dean didn’t know how to make it go away. If it would ever go away. 

Cas was sitting with his back facing him, probably pouring over a lore book. He quietly reached for his duffel and found a bottle of Jack he’d forgotten about tucked in the bottom. He rubbed his eyes and made sure that Cas’ back was still turned, and then tilted the bottle to his lips. The liquid slid down his throat slowly and painfully, and his whole mouth stung. But he welcomed it, leaning back and gripping the bottle tightly, his knuckles going white. 

When he looked up, Cas was looking at him. He was the picture of innocent concern. His lips were parted slightly as ever and his eyes were wide and free of guile.

He ignored the angel’s stare and set the bottle gently on the nightstand. It was already a quarter empty. 

“C’mon. We have to get going,” Dean said roughly. Cas gulped--Dean tried to keep his eyes off his throat--then he nodded. 

They drove in silence, which Dean found odd. Cas was never afraid to speak his mind, to tell Dean exactly how idiotic he thought he was being. He knew the drinking bothered Cas. But he also knew this was the best way for him to deal. But as the Impala roared beneath them, the angel just sat with his lips closed, which for him meant they were practically pursed.   
  
Dean’s vision was a little fuzzy, but it took a lot to get him drunk these days. When they walked into the bar, they were greeted by the smell of smoke, sweat, cheap whiskey, and defeated souls. Dean breathed deeply and immediately started to relax. He turned to look at Cas and saw his eyes darting nervously to the sides. A laugh rose in him, but he held it back. Now wasn’t the time. 

He gave Cas a slap on the shoulder and walked over to the bartender to order two beers. When he walked back over Cas was standing exactly where he’d left him, inadvertently blocking the door.

Cas started slightly when Dean grabbed his arm, but he obediently followed him to a small table in the corner. 

“So, all these guys were dicks right? Left girls on the big day?” Dean asked as he took a big gulp, feeling his body relax.

Cas’ eyes darted to the beers in his hands. “Dean, shouldn’t we be talking to the locals. Learning what we can about the case.”

“We already found the pattern. I guess we could learn more about who they were, but we have all night. And I really don’t think we would learn much from them, or how would you say it? Learn much of _import_. Anyway, you looked at their files, at their lives, right? Did you find any other connections between them? Maybe they all did it for the same reason.” 

Cas sighed. “No. Each had their own reasons. And beside them all growing up here, I could not find any other connections.” Dean tossed back the rest of his beer and considered standing up to order something stronger. But he didn’t want to see the look of disappointment in Cas’ eyes. So instead he took the angel’s untouched beer and cracked it open. 

“Okay. You looked through some lore, right? Find anything.” 

Cas just shook his head. 

“That’s okay. We’ll get there, alright?” The conversation drifted to other things. Memories from their past, time shared together before the world was as messed up. But now that Dean thought about it, he and Cas hadn’t really known each other when the world wasn’t near destruction. He wondered if they would have gotten close, would have had a bond if they hadn’t. Of course the whole reason Dean had met Castiel was because he’d pulled him from Hell, had followed the angels’ orders to jumpstart the apocalypse. 

As he looked into the angel’s eyes, the loss of Sam was pushed farther and farther to the back of his mind. They talked until the bar was almost empty. Then Cas helped Dean to the car. Neither pointed out that they’d just gone an entire evening without working, without advancing the case. It didn’t seem to matter.

The cool night air sharpened his senses and he didn’t even feel that out-of-it when he got behind the wheel. 

By some miracle, they made it back to the motel, the road swimming in front of Dean’s eyes the whole way. Dean leaned heavily on Cas the whole way into the room. He felt drowsy and tired as he reached for the bottle he’d left on the nightstand. Cas gently pried it from his hand and Dean chased it, his arms wrapping around Cas as he tried. He gave up, but he didn’t untangle himself from the angel. 

“I need it, Cas.” The angel didn’t say anything, but he set the bottle on the nightstand and returned Dean’s embrace. “I need it. I miss him. I miss Sammy.” He sounded like a hurt child, but he didn’t care. 

“It won’t help, Dean,” Cas said softly. 

“Yes it will,” he said roughly, but his mind was quickly leaving the motel room to dwell inside his pain. 

“You need sleep.” Dean’s muddled brain struggled with the thought. He did need sleep. 

His hands fumbled with the bottom of his shirt and his jeans. He couldn’t sleep in them, that wasn’t right. 

“Cas, you have to help me.” The angel gently sat him on the bed. 

“Go to sleep, Dean. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“No,” Dean said adamantly. “No, you have to help me. I have to take these off. Before I sleep.” 

His head throbbed and his throat was dry. Tears prickled behind his eyes as his brother’s face filled his mind. His stupid puppy dog eyes, award-winning bitch faces and his steady, reliable presence. But for some reason, his mind held onto the most trivial, stupid thought. Getting out of his damn clothes. 

“Help me, Cas,” Dean whined. 

“I can’t, Dean. You know I can’t.” The angel moved to walk away from the bed but Dean grabbed his arm, holding him in a vice-like grip. Cas was a thousand times stronger than him, he could break it. But he didn’t. 

“Please, Cas.” He was crying now. Crying because his baby brother was gone and Cas wouldn’t give him the goddamn bottle and he sounded like a snot-nosed kid and he had to sleep in his stupid jeans. 

“Okay.” Cas sat on the bed next to him and reached for his shirt, and if Dean had been more present he would have noticed the shame and borderline terror in the angel’s eyes. 

He gently pulled the shirt over Dean’s head and Dean sighed in relief as his skin met the dry air. For some reason, his chest was burning hot. He wondered vaguely if he was running a fever. Cas stood up but Dean followed him, standing on shaky legs. 

“You have to help me.” Cas’ nostrils flared, and even in the dark Dean could see how red his face was. Maybe in anger, maybe in shame, maybe in--

Dean’s mind went blank as Cas’ hands found the buckle of his belt. The angel stared fixedly at the floor as his unpracticed fingers pulled the belt off and dropped it. His eyes didn’t move as he reached for the button of his jeans. 

Dean reached a hand out and slowly tilted Cas’ head up so their eyes met.

“Hey, it’s okay, Cas.” Cas bit his lip but kept his eyes fixed on Dean. His jeans dropped to the floor. 

Electricity charged the room, and Dean’s tired mind couldn’t leave the maze of Cas’ eyes. In the shadows the blue looked almost grey, but they still shone brightly. He wanted to reach forward a hand to Cas’ face, to be selfish. 

But before he could Cas grabbed his shoulders and forced him onto the bed. Then he walked stiffly away. Dean felt the tears slipping down his face as his mind left the motel room and drifted into the darkness 

Normally when Dean woke after a night of heavy drinking, only bits and pieces of memory remained. And they always became an afterthought when the pounding headache hit. 

But this time every second of last night played over and over in his mind, up until he was in bed crying himself to sleep. 

God, he’d been an idiot to hurt Cas like that. He reached for the bottle he’d left on the nightstand but didn’t find it. In his mind he could see Cas’ pained and nervous face as he slipped Dean’s shirt off his body. The angel’s heavy breathing and anger as he’d undone his jeans. 

_Damnit_ , Dean thought. 

And it wasn’t just that he’d manipulated Cas either. It was that he had wanted the angel to do it. Of course he had. But Cas didn’t deserve it; he didn’t deserve Cas. 

Dean pressed his palms into his eyes and stood. He could deal with this later. 

Cas turned around from his place at the window as Dean stood, still wearing only his briefs. The angel pointedly glanced away and then held up a sheet of paper. 

“I think I found something.” Dean tugged a shirt on and grabbed his jeans from the floor. 

“Think?” Dean pulled the jeans up and walked to where the angel was standing. 

“I know I’m not a good hunter, Dean.” 

“Hey. No one’s good at first. You’re doing great Cas. Hell, you should have seen me on my first hunt. I almost blew the entire thing and got us both killed. My dad was so pissed after. Guess I was only nine, but still. You’re doing a hell of a lot better than me. What you got?” Cas smiled gratefully and handed him the paper.

“It may be nothing, but since the attacks started, six women have had miscarriages in town.” Dean looked at the paper in his hand. Hospital records going back a month. 

“Okay?”

“It’s not just that. They’ve been very odd. All of the fat and blood was gone from the fetuses. And all six women had been pregnant anywhere from 11 to 16 weeks, so complications should have been very rare.” Dean’s stomach turned and he wished Cas had brought him coffee.

“When’d you become such an expert on this stuff?”

“While you slept,” Cas said seriously. 

“Alright, so this thing kills babies too?” Cas nodded. 

“I have a theory for what it is too.”

“Jesus, Cas. Easy with the research.” The angel glared at him but handed him a second sheet of paper. 

“It wasn’t difficult. I believe we’re hunting a manananggal.” Dean closed his eyes and then blinked slowly. His brain was already starting to fritz out. Great. 

“You made that up.” Cas didn’t reply but gestured to the papers in his hand. He looked it over. Okay, so Cas didn’t make it up.

“The lore goes back centuries, Dean. Accounts vary on how they’re formed, but some people say that they were once women who were abandoned on their wedding day. They lure men who’ve left women at the altar into their trap by pretending to be beautiful women and then they feast on their heart and liver, sometimes their stomach too. And they also prey on pregnant women. They have elongated tongues that can reach down the woman's throat and feed on her unborn child.” Dean gagged. It was way too early for this. 

“They typically aren’t found outside of the Philippines, but I’ve found at least three instances of them in California over the last 250 years.”

“Okay.” Dean felt bile rise in his throat again but he choked it down. “So, how do we find it? Or more importantly, how do we kill it?” 

“I’m not sure how to find it. But killing it is fairly straightforward. These creatures split themselves in half at night so they can feed. The upper half sprouts wings and is able to fly to the victims, but the lower half remains vulnerable.” Dean shook his head. He’d hunted a lot of things in his time, but these might take the cake on the weirdness scale. 

“If we find and salt the lower half while the manananggal is split, then the creature will be unable to reattach. Then we leave the lower half in the sun, and it dies,” Cas said. 

“Fantastic. Super straightforward. Finding the damn thing would be a lot easier if we had access to security cams for the whole city.”

“You always seem to have security camera footage on your hunts.” Dean looked away.

“Yeah, well, that was kind of Sam’s gig.”

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said softly. When Dean didn’t answer, he went on. “Maybe the sheriff would give us access.”

“Nah, there’s no reason feds would need that kind of coverage when I’m sure the police have already gone through it all. And we wouldn’t have it twenty-four seven so we could miss something. The thing can look different every time it attacks too, right? We would need to set up some sort of program to scan for similarities or something, and that’s not really my area.” Dean handed the papers back to Cas, who stacked them neatly into a file folder. 

“So what now?” Cas’ eyes crinkled in that adorable way of his, and Dean had to pause before answering. 

“Well, you let me sleep til the middle of the afternoon. So, I guess we hang out here til nightfall and drive around tonight, see if we can get the jump on it.” 

Dean waited for an answer and got nothing. The silence stretched from seconds to minutes. He waited for their conversation to fall into the easy pattern it always did, but neither said anything. His head was still full of memories from last night, and he didn’t want to hurt Cas more than he had. 

He yawned widely and shook his head to try to wake himself up. Then he grabbed some fresh clothes and walked to the bathroom to get changed.

When he came back into the room, Cas was standing in the middle holding a cup of coffee. Dean smiled. Cas came across as a badass angel, but he was also an awkward softie. 

“Thanks, Cas.” He took the drink from him, smiling again when their hands touched, and tasted it. Cas had gotten cream and sugar this time. 

“I’m sorry about...” He trailed off and looked into Cas’ eyes, trying to tell him. To say so much more than he could with words. He was sorry about last night, sorry about the alleyway, sorry he kept hurting him, and sorry that he would never be enough for Castiel. The angel looked at him calmly for a minute, and then he nodded. 

“It’s okay, Dean.” He let out a sigh of relief. Add this to the reasons he didn’t deserve the angel. 

“Alright. Let’s see what kind of crap this joint gets. We still got a few hours.” Dean grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, flipping mindlessly through the channels. He flopped onto his bed, then laughed as Cas sat primly on the other bed. 

They watched cartoons and daytime soaps, and slowly the remaining awkwardness in the room faded entirely. Dean laughed loudly and Cas commented seriously on every show. 

As the sun sank lower in the sky, they started to prepare for the hunt. Dean figured even if bullets wouldn’t kill it, they would slow it down. They had plenty of salt, but Dean split some into two bags so they could easily carry it with them. The manananggal’s lower half couldn’t move independently, so he was hoping to find it without running into the top. 

When the sun was gone from the sky, they got in the car. Dean turned on the classic rock station, and he sang along softly to Kansas as they pulled out of the motel. Cas ignored the prompting to sing with him, but Dean thought he saw the ghost of a smile playing around his lips. 

They drove through the darkening streets for two hours, but they didn’t see anything. Dean was just about to call it quits (admittedly a little early) and suggest they go for a drink when his phone rang. 

“Agent Williams. There’s been another attack.” The sheriff’s voice was tight, and it was shaking slightly.

“Where?” 

“10 Hemstalk Court. It’s right off the river.”

“We’re on our way.” He pulled the phone away from his ear to hang up. 

“And, Agent?” Dean paused, waiting for her to go on. “The vic’s alive.” 

The house was just three minutes from the motel. As they pulled up, the police lights reflected off the skinny house. Dean realized as they got there that he was still in a flannel and jeans, but it was too late now. Cas was still in his suit, but the trenchcoat was covering most of it. 

There was a girl with bright red hair standing next to the sheriff, a shock blanket wrapped around her. They flashed their badges to get through the police line (Cas’ wasn’t even upside down) and walked over to her. 

“These guys are with the FBI. They’re here to help.” 

The girl’s dark green eyes were wide, and she had a deep cut on her cheek. There was also a large tear in her pink Wonder Woman t-shirt. 

“I’m Agent Williams, this is my partner Agent Ehart and-” Dean paused--the girl looked terrified. 

Cas stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“You’re safe now. Can you tell us your name?” 

She gulped, and muttered something under her breath. Then she looked up at them. 

“I’m Charlie. Charlie Bradbury.” 


	5. Venandi

_All I am_  
_And all that I would ever want to be_  
_It's just a travesty_

* * *

The girl leaned into the sheriff who wrapped a protective arm around her, then she looked up at them and took a deep breath. “I don’t--I can’t talk tonight. They can talk to me tomorrow right?” 

“I know it’s hard,” Dean said, clearing his throat and trying to find the words. Sam was always better at this kind of thing. He turned to Cas and the angel met his eyes, nodding before turning and looking at the girl. 

“It’s very important that we speak to you tonight. We need the most accurate version of events possible.” Cas took a step back. 

“Look, I think I'm going crazy, okay?” She wrapped the blanket tighter around her shoulders and took a shaky breath, “I just need a night to figure out what happened.” 

Dean knew that wouldn’t work. By tomorrow she would have convinced herself that what she saw wasn’t real, that it was just a byproduct of the trauma. He opened his mouth to say as much when the sheriff cleared her throat. 

“Boys, I appreciate you coming out here. But Charlie’s been through a lot. Why don’t you go inside and check out the crime scene?” Cas stepped forward to argue, but Dean caught the look in the sheriff’s eyes and held him back. This wasn’t something she was going to back down on. Dean nodded to the door, and Cas followed him inside. 

“What I don’t get, is why would it attack her? I mean, all the women that it’s attacked have been pregnant, and they have no memory of the attack. So why go after her?” 

Cas held the caution tape covering the door to the bedroom up and Dean walked through. 

“Maybe she left a woman at the altar,” Cas said.

“Right,” Dean laughed. Cas looked up at him from where he was crouched on the floor examining a deep gouge in the hardwood and raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh,” Dean said, cursing himself quietly. 

Cas stood and sighed. “We’ll ask her tomorrow, I guess.” 

Dean nodded and looked around the room. Star Wars posters were plastered around one wall, and the desk was covered with blue opaque dice of varying sizes and shapes. On the crowded bookshelf, there was a bobblehead that he recognized as Hermione, but there was nothing useful. No scraps of fabric, no dirt, no hair, nothing that would help them identify or track the manananggal. 

“Dean, could it be someone we’ve already met?” 

“No, I don’t think so. I guess it could be someone we ran into at the bar the other day. But these things are like vamps, remember? Up all night, sleeping through the day. Everyone we’ve talked to has been out during the day.” 

Cas did one more sweep of the room and shook his head. 

“Nothing here. We’ll come back and talk to Charlie in the morning.” They walked out of the house and nodded to the sheriff. She and Charlie hadn’t moved from their spot. 

“I’m going to get a drink, Cas.” He didn’t ask for company. If Cas wanted to come, he would come. But as he got in the car there was a soft gust of air and the angel was gone. 

\-------

He stumbled back to the motel a little after 1. His shaky hands struggled to fit the key into the lock, but the door swung open by itself. 

“Thanks, Cas,” he slurred, nodding to the angel behind the door. 

Thinking it would help him see better, he shut one of his eyes and staggered to the bathroom. Once the door was shut, he took the fifth of whiskey he had concealed in his jacket and tucked it in the shower. Cas wasn’t likely to go in there. He didn’t need to hide this from the angel, not really. It’s not like Cas had never seen him drink. But he hadn’t seen him without Sam, and Dean needed a way to cope. And one look from Cas brought a wave of guilt for letting everyone around him down, again. 

Then he slowly peeled the clothes from his body until he was in his underwear and staggered back into the room, collapsing on his bed. 

He woke slowly, his mind groggy. Returning to reality was almost as painful as the dream he must have left behind. It faded from his memory before he could grasp it, but the sweat covering his body and the hoarseness in his throat was plenty of evidence.

“You were screaming, Dean.” He jerked up to see Cas sitting calmly on the foot of his bed. 

He ignored him and sat up, shrugging the sheets off. “What time is it?” 

“A little past 3. What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas asked, turning away from Dean to face the window. Moonlight landed on the curtains, making them look like they were glowing. 

Dean fell back onto his pillow and rubbed his eyes. 

“Nothing.” He was still shaking slightly, but it didn’t matter. Talking about it wouldn’t make it go away. 

Cas stood up and took a few steps away from Dean. With each step, Dean felt something inside him build. The tremors intensified and his lungs wouldn’t fill. 

“Cas--” The word clawed its way up his throat, barely making it out before he found himself unable to speak. He just kept his eyes fixed on Cas, focusing on the angel’s figure in the dark. Trying to maintain his grip on now and not the inexplicable panic that was filling him. 

Cas crawled across the bed and wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him into his chest. In the back of his mind, he knew he should be grateful, but his instinct was to push him off. He wanted Cas there, but his senses were still spiraling, and hands on him only made it worse. The angel sensed him tense up and drew his hand back, choosing to simply sit next to Dean.

For nearly half an hour, they sat there. Dean trying to control his breathing, Cas a steady figure at his side. His mind started to return, to become grounded. The room came into focus and breathing became subconscious. The terror faded. 

“Thanks, Cas.” 

“Of course, Dean.” The angel was staring at him in the dark, and after a minute he leaned in slightly, asking for permission. He nodded and the angel wrapped his arms around him. Dean dropped his head onto his shoulder and focused on taking deep breaths. Within minutes, he was asleep.

In the morning, his arms were tangled in Cas’ and the angel was laying next to him under the covers. 

Through hooded eyes, he looked up at him, sleep still heavy in his body. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he said groggily. 

“Hello, Dean.” Oddly, it didn’t feel weird that he was in bed with Cas, barely clothed. Because it was Cas. And he’d helped him stay sane last night, he’d helped him sleep. So it didn’t matter, and it didn’t have to be weird. 

As the sun filtered into the room, he yawned widely and walked to the bathroom. He got ready quickly, taking a quick shower and slipping into his fed threads. Cursing when he realized he left his tie in the room, he went to get it.

Then the glint of the bottle he’d hidden in the shower stopped him. He picked it up, running his hands over the cool glass and staring at the golden liquid inside. After he unscrewed the cap, he held it up to his lips and almost tilted it back. But he didn’t. He didn’t need it, not yet anyway. Even though Sam was still at the forefront of his mind, he felt okay. He felt like just for a while, he could deal with all the thoughts sober. 

When he walked out, Cas handed him a cup of coffee and he smiled. If this was the new routine, he was okay with that. He tied his tie quickly and turned to see Cas had already shed the trenchcoat and was smoothing out his shirt. He noticed his tie was still loose around his neck. Dean crossed the room and quickly fixed it before they left. 

\-------

Charlie’s disposition was drastically different from the night before. Her eyes were bright and attentive and her fiery hair was pulled back. She looked ready to run, but not like she was scared. Just that she could leave all this behind at a moment's notice. 

Her arms were crossed and she stood blocking the doorway. “Miss Bradbury, we know this is hard for you. But if you could just answer a few questions,” Dean said. 

She nodded at him and led them into a small living room. Everything looked different in the daylight. The walls were bare, a far cry from the bedroom, and his eye was immediately drawn to the tangle of wires and remotes underneath the TV.

“Charlie,” Cas started as they sat across from her on the couch, “can you tell us what happened last night?” She paused for a minute, as if gathering her thoughts. Then she pulled her knees to her chest and started talking, picking up a mug from the coffee table. 

“I got home around 6. Long day at work. Then I was just talking to a friend on discord when I got attacked.”

“Is that all?” Cas asked. 

She looked at the ground and her fingers dug into her knees. 

“Charlie, every detail is important. If you want us to catch the person who did this, you have togive us more than that,” Dean said.

“Look. This girl just showed up in my room. I know it sounds crazy, Cammie says it’s just the stress--”

“Cammie?” Cas’ voice pulled her to a stop.

“The sheriff. She says it’s just stress but I know what happened. But just like her, you guys probably won’t believe me anyway.”

Dean leaned forward. “There’s not a lot we won’t believe.” 

“The girl, I’d never seen her before. She was beautiful. I don’t know, it was like magic, okay? We were talking, I can’t even remember about what, and then she changed.” She paused. They always needed that one extra nudge in the right direction. 

“Changed how?” 

“Her legs-- her legs disappeared. And then she grew wings. Like, full on dragon wings,” she stretched her hands out for emphasis, “And her face sort of wrinkled and she attacked me. I know it sounds crazy, okay?”

“Trust us, it--”

“You were attacked by a manananggal.” Cas had stood up.

“Great, Cas. Way to sugarcoat it,” Dean mumbled. 

“A what?” Charlie was staring at him, the picture of confusion. 

“A manananggal.”

“Okay, you definitely made that up.” 

Dean laughed quietly to himself and looked at the girl. 

“So, what is this made-up monster thing?” She had a smirk on her face, and Dean decided it was time to commit to Cas’ crazy route of telling the truth. 

“It’s a real thing, Charlie. A vampire-like woman that seduces men and then eats their insides. Also, they can split themselves in half, and they get around with batlike wings.”

“That’s creepy as hell.” Charlie stood up and walked to the kitchen, setting her coffee down on the way. When she came back, she was holding three beers. Dean took one gratefully, ignoring the look on Cas’ face as he did. The angel, of course, refused. 

“You guys are crazy.”

“Look, you saw this thing. You know we ain’t lying.” She nodded slowly, and took in a deep breath. Compared to most of the people they talked to, she was taking this surprisingly well. 

“So, what? The FBI kills monsters? Like some sort of Men In Black thing?”

“I actually normally wear a tan trench coat. And Dean wears a variety of colorful flannels.” Dean rolled his eyes but ignored the comment. 

“No. We aren’t really FBI. But we can help.” She shook her head and took another large swig. “One thing I still don’t get, though. Why’d this thing go after you? I mean, it’s only gone after men. And besides that, it’s only gone after men that have left women at the altar. Why would it break it’s MO like that? And why’d it do the whole seducing bit on you anyway?” 

Charlie raised an eyebrow and set her beer on the table.

“What can I say? I guess scary vampire women are my type.” Dean stared at her blankly, but waited for her to go on. 

“And as for the, uh, modus operandi… The sheriff and I were kind of together. For a long time. And, we-- we were gonna get married. The whole deal, with a flower girl and everything. But I got cold feet. I know it was a bitchy thing to do but I just got scared. Committing to someone like that… Anyway. Guess I don’t break the pattern after all.” She picked up the beer again and knocked back the rest with one gulp. And Dean’s mind was still playing catch up with her story. 

“Charlie, what do you remember of the creature? Anything that could help us find it?” Cas asked. She looked up at him and shrugged. 

“I don’t know. I was pretty shaken up, and it felt almost like she had a spell on me. I didn’t really know what I was saying to her, before. Like I was in some sort of trance. When she attacked I sort of froze. And before she could really lay a finger on me, Cammie barged in and she took off.” Dean twirled his beer between his fingers. 

“How did the sheriff know to come?”

“Oh, I have a pretty damn good alarm system.” Dean looked around the small, shabby house and raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t let looks fool you, Agent Williams--”

“Dean Winchester.” 

“Ooh secret name. That’s so cool. Sorry, Dean. My alarm system is nearly perfect, because I built it myself. I’m good at that kind of thing.” Dean met Cas’ eyes and he knew they were on the same page. Finally a lead they could follow. 

“How good?”

“The best in the biz. At least in this dump, not that that’s saying much. I work IT, but I can do way more.” Dean sat back, knowing how important it was that he played his cards right. 

“Anything you couldn’t hack into?” 

“Not that I’ve found.” He nodded at Cas and the angel stepped forward. 

“Charlie, would you help us?” She opened her mouth and Dean was sure she was going to say no. Then she paused. He followed her eyes to Cas. His head was tilted and his lips were stubbornly refusing to touch. And his eyes-- they rivaled Sam’s puppy dog look. Charlie leaned back and threw up her hands. 

“Fine, I guess. What do you guys need?” Dean breathed a silent sigh of relief.

“We can’t find this thing. It changes shape and form constantly. The thing is, most supernatural things leave some sort of distortion on camera. Shifter’s eyes light up, angels cause the film to glitch. It may be nothing, but it’s the best chance we got of finding this thing.” 

Her eyes widened and she took another drink from her bottle, running a hand through her hair. “Shifters? Angels?”

“Yeah, they’re all real. Actually my buddy here is an angel.” Cas nodded helpfully with a small smile. She rubbed a tired hand over her eyes and then nodded, seeming to steel herself against the darker side of the world. 

“An actual angel? Are you telling me God’s real too?” Dean smiled darkly.

“That’s a whole other thing. Don’t let it worry you too much. Besides, Cas here’s one of the good angel’s, a real softie.” He could almost feel Cas rolling his eyes. Charlie gave him a look he couldn’t decipher and then took a deep breath. 

“So, what? You guys hunt monsters for a living and one of you’s a literal angel but you can’t hack a security system? Seriously?” His lips tightened and his hand instinctively fell to his empty finger. Reaching to twist it around, and finding nothing. Cas stayed silent too and she shrugged, moving on. 

“Alright, well you find it and then what?”

Cas stepped forward again. “We salt it’s lower half and leave it in the sun to die.” She started laughing but caught the look on Cas’ face and stopped. 

“That’s a weird-ass monster.” 

Dean snorted and nodded. “Tell me about it.” 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll help you guys. This thing did try to kill me after all. It shouldn’t take me long to put together a program to search all the security cams in the city, but in the meantime, I’d like some peace and quiet. Why don’t you guys head back to whatever creepy cheap motel you’re staying at and text me the address? I’ll meet you there when I find something.” Dean took the scrap of paper she handed him with a number scrawled on it and nodded.

“Hey, Charlie,” he said as he stood to leave.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for doing this.” She smiled and made a shooing motion with her hands. 

They walked to the car in silence and soon the rumble of the Impala was drowning out his thoughts. Until Cas spoke.

“Dean, why did you bury the ring?” His hands tightened on the wheel but he stayed focused on the road. 

“I know it was your mother’s. I don’t understand why you would bury it there, where Sam--”

He risked a glance at the angel and immediately regretted it. The blue eyes were barely visible under his concerned squint. “That’s enough, Cas.” 

“I think talking about it would help,” Cas said.

If it were anyone else, maybe even if it were Sam, Dean would either shut up entirely, or punch their lights out. But it was Cas. Stupid, naive, innocent Cas. And deep down he knew the angel was right, anyway. 

“I found the ring in the ashes of our house, after it burned.” He took a deep breath.

“Cas, I didn’t want Sammy to be alone. I’ve had that ring since I was a kid, and it’s always made me feel like my mom was there with me, you know? It’s stupid, but it makes it easier to carry on, to keep going. And I know Sam’s in the cage, and that leaving it in the godforsaken cemetery won’t do jack, but I wanted him to have it. To have Mom with him. He needed it more than me.” The words spilled out and they sounded even more idiotic, more childish than they had in his head. But it was too late. 

“You’re a great brother, Dean. Sam’s lucky to have you up here, looking out for him even now.” Dean ran a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah okay, Cas,” he answered with. 

Talking about it hadn't helped.

\------- 

They got back to the motel and Dean walked straight into the bathroom. All the willpower from this morning was gone. Or at least most of it. 

Instead of downing half the bottle, he settled for a few quick gulps, wincing as the liquid burned his throat. When he walked back into the room though, the warmth started to fill him and he breathed a sigh of relief. It was so much easier to forget when there was something there to help him along. 

Cas was sitting in the corner with a pile of dusty books. 

“I think we know everything we need to kill this thing.”

“I know, Dean, but,” Cas held up a book and Dean saw enochian sigils covering the front. “These books are about Hell. About the cage. About Lucifer.” 

Dean’s breath caught in his throat, but the moment passed quickly. He took Cas’ unspoken invitation and sat on the floor next to him, picking up one of the books that was actually in English. 

They flipped through the brittle pages for a few hours, and his head started to spin. There were stories of Lucifer before the cage, of the warding and protections that were placed on it, warnings to stay away from it--but nothing to spring someone from it. 

Dean couldn’t help feeling relieved when Charlie knocked and he could put down the book. 

“I got her,” she said, pushing into the room. She opened her laptop and set it on the table by the door. On the screen was a grainy photo taken from a traffic camera. The woman behind the wheel of the car had a weird halo of light around her head.

“Nice work, kid. Who is it?” Dean stood from the floor and gave Cas a hand up. 

“I have no idea. But the car turned onto the road, you can see it there.” She pointed to the dirt road barely visible in the back of the picture. “And that road only goes one place.”

“I’ll go look,” Cas said before vanishing. Charlie’s eyes widened and she looked at Dean with a question in her eyes. 

Dean scratched the back of his head.“Yeah, he does that a lot. He’ll be back.” 

She nodded then sat at the table.

“So, what’s your guys’ deal?” He looked to see her staring at him with her head propped in her hands, the picture of innocence. 

“What do you mean?” 

She dropped her hands and yawned, looking around the room.“I mean, he’s an _angel_. And you’re just human, right?” Dean nodded, wishing he knew where she was going with this. “Okay, so what’s he doing following you around? You guys just travel the country looking for monsters to kill, all the while talking in your secret language.” 

He frowned and sat on the bed opposite her. “I- A secret language? I don’t-”

“Yeah, you know. The eye thing.” 

He rubbed his neck and silently prayed to Cas to hurry his ass up. “What?”

Charlie gave him a mischievous smile. “You just, like, stare into each other’s eyes, completely oblivious to the room.” Dean sighed. She’d known them for approximately 24 hours and she was already picking up on things he’d been ignoring for years.

“No we don’t.”

She rolled her eyes.“Are you guys, like, together?” 

“No,” Dean answered quickly. She raised an eyebrow and propped her chin on her hand. 

“So, it’s just the two of you then?” He looked at his feet, trying to dull the pain that flared up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve or anything.”

“It’s uh, it’s fine. So you and Sheriff Moore, huh?” 

She smiled ruefully and sighed. “Not anymore.” 

Suddenly Cas reappeared. “She’s there.” 

Dean breathed a sigh of relief that the interrogation was over. 

“Alright, so what now?” Charlie asked.

Dean stood and went to his duffel to grab a large bag of salt. “Now, we get you somewhere safe. This thing came after you before, we can’t just assume it won’t again. Do you have somewhere outside the city you can stay? We’ll take care of her tonight, and by daylight you won’t have to worry.” 

She stood up and folded her arms. For a minute, the sass on her face reminded Dean of Sam, then it was gone. “No way. I’m not leaving.” 

He walked over to her and set the salt on the table. Then he mirrored her, folding his arms and towering over her. “Look, Charlie. This isn’t the time for heroics, okay? We need to get you out.” 

“Dean, you can leave Cas here to protect me, while we run surveillance and make sure no one else gets attacked during the night. You can’t go after the lower half of this thing while letting the top half go after someone else. You don’t know it’ll come for me.” 

“That’s a fair point. But Cas can run surveillance without you.” She glanced over at the angel and tilted her head.

“Could he?” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. You and Cas will stay here and I’ll go salt the son of a bitch.” He turned to Cas. “Got that?” 

The angel agreed and returned to sit on the floor next to the books. 

The sun was hanging low in the sky, but they had at least two hours. Dean grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Charlie, longing for something stronger. 

“What do we do until night, then?” She asked, settling down at the table with her laptop. 

Dean took a swig of beer and leaned back on the bed. “We wait.”


	6. Genus

_It rises now before me_  
_A dark and silent barrier_

* * *

The night was dark and quiet, and cool wind ruffled Dean’s hair as he stepped out of the car. He checked the clip on his gun and tucked it in his waistband. Not that bullets would do much if he ran into this thing. In his right hand was a bag full of salt and his left was holding the flashlight. 

He pushed open the door to the warehouse slowly and immediately recoiled at the stench of rotting flesh. His flashlight cast a wide beam around the decaying building and revealed blankets and mattress pads from squatters over the years. He quickly walked past them to the back. 

Then he gagged, turning his head away to get himself under control. Pristine white sheets were wrapped over a mattress that rivaled the godawful ones in the worst motels he’d ever stayed in. And on top of them, lay the bottom half of the manananggal. The legs were cut off just above the hip bones, and they glistened with fresh blood, yet somehow there was no blood on the bed. Dean gagged again and walked a few steps away. 

_You’re a goddamn hunter, would you pull yourself together._

He forced himself back to the dingey mattress, lifting the bag of salt. As he got closer, he noted with disgust that one of the legs was swaying back and forth slightly. Keeping himself as far away as possible, he poured salt over the top of the legs. The flesh sizzled and burned, and the bright red turned to black. The legs convulsed as he kept pouring, until the bag was empty. And then they were still. 

They just lay there, charred and useless. He walked over and wrapped the sheet around them and then carried it out to the car. 

“I’m so sorry, Baby,” he muttered as he dumped them in the trunk. Of course the legs had to be left in the sun. It was only natural. There couldn’t be a supernatural being that died in a pleasant way. 

After wiping his hands on his jacket he pulled out his phone and dialed Charlie. 

“I got it.” 

“Alright, well it’s upper half is attacking some guy. Cas just flew over there.” Dean sighed. Still, he was impressed by how calm she sounded.

“What’s the address?” She gave it to him, her voice still calm and controlled, and he typed it into his phone. 

The car roared underneath him and he sped away. He turned up the radio as loud as he could to drown out his scattered thoughts. 

But it didn’t work. By the time he got there, his thoughts were scattered and his brother’s face was swimming in front of him.

But when he stepped out of the car with his gun in hand, they faded slightly. 

The sound of glass shattering inside the house sent him sprinting inside. Cas was standing over a man that was sprawled on the ground, holding his angel blade. The manananggal was facing him, her teeth barred. Her wings were gray and the veins were visible even in the dark room. Where her legs should have been, blood dripped slowly to the floor. 

Dean watched from the doorway as Cas stepped forward, his eyes lighting up and a shadow of his wings unfurling on the wall. The creature hesitated, and Cas launched himself at her. 

She swiped her wings at him, but he ducked underneath and knocked her back. She flew above him and he looked up in time to see her fangs sink into his neck.

“Cas!” Dean shouted, moving from where he stood rooted on the ground.

Before he could reach the angel, Cas raised his hands to the manananggal’s head and his eyes glowed white hot. Her blood-red eyes widened in surprise and light shone through her skin before she shuddered and exploded, splattering blood and bits of skin.

Dean wiped blood from his face before walking over to the man who still lay unconscious on the floor. He shook him lightly until the man blinked up at him. 

“Hey, you okay?” The man sat up and looked in horror around his living room. 

“I- uh.... what… oh god.” 

“Yeah… you might need to redecorate,” Dean said before turning to Cas. The angel was holding a hand over the bite on his neck, but his eyes glowed again and the blood slowed to a trickle before the wound closed completely. “You good Cas?” 

Cas nodded. 

Dean turned back to the man whose eyes were beginning to glaze over. “What… what the hell is going on? What just… just happened?” the man asked, trying to steady his breath. 

“He just saved your life,” Dean answered. 

“Thanks,” he said absentmindedly, leaning heavily on an overturned armchair. 

Dean turned and Cas followed him out of the door. He didn’t want to be around when the guy came out of his shock. The police could deal with the poor man if he was brave enough to call. . 

When they got to the car, Dean finally spoke up. “So, you’re telling me you could have exploded that thing with your angel mojo this whole time?” Cas gave him a shrug. “Looks like I didn’t need to pour salt over disembodied legs.”

“I didn’t know.” 

Dean walked around to the trunk. “They were disgusting, Cas. The smell of that place alone-” Dean stopped when his stomach started to churn.

“I had never heard of these creatures before, Dean. I had no idea if my grace would have any effect on them.” 

“Well, we should still leave the legs in the sun, just in case.” He lifted the trunk and immediately recoiled. He ran a finger through the mess of dead manananggal coating the inside of his car and cursed again. “What the hell?” 

“When I smote the monster, I vaporized all of the monster, Dean.” Dean’s hand went to the gun in his waistband, and if it hadn’t been Cas, he would have shot him on the spot. Nobody messes with his Baby. Then all the remains of the manananggal vanished and he turned to see Cas smiling softly, a glow fading from his eyes.

“Whatever, let’s go make sure Charlie is okay.” They got in the car, and Cas winced when he turned it on and the music was still blaring through the speakers. Cas turned it off, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Shame, that was a good song.”

He ignored Cas' glance.

When they got back to the hotel, Charlie ran out to meet them. Her hair fell at odd angles around her face and her eyes were wild. 

“Thanks for the call, guys. Really appreciate it.”

“Sorry,” Cas said softly. 

“So, did you get it?” Dean nodded. “So, what? Now we just wait for the sun to come out and burn the vampire-bitch?” 

Cas shook his head. “No. I made it explode.” 

Dean snorted. Say what you want about the guy but there wasn’t anyone that could hold a candle to his frankness. 

“Awesome,” she said with a bright smile.

Dean smiled back and put his hands in his pockets. “So, what’s next for you? Gonna marry your sheriff in shining armour?” 

She rolled her eyes. “No, I’ll say goodbye, and then I’m gonna skip town. I need a new city, a new name, a new job.” She cocked her head to the side slightly. “Maybe at some big corporation where I can blend in.” Dean raised an eyebrow and she laughed. “What, you think my real name is Charlie Bradbury?”

“It’s not?”

She scoffed. “Dude… you of all people should know the benefits of a fake name. Anyway,” She glanced over at Cas then back to Dean. “You guys can keep my number. If you ever need some actual skill for your technologically-challenged asses then give me a call.”

She patted her pockets and threw her hands in the air. Then she focused on Cas again, “Hey, would you mind grabbing my phone from the room, I can’t remember where I left it, but I think it might be on one of the beds.” He gave her a wide-eyed look and shook his head, but she folded her arms and he went inside. 

“What was that about?” 

“While you were on your little adventure, Cas and I had quite the talk.” He felt his heart rate kick up, but he just stared at her blankly. “I know about your brother, Dean. And I’m sorry. And I know your life isn’t easy. But you can’t keep doing this to Cas.” He looked around for some escape route, some way out of the conversation. But his eyes were greeted by a broken vending machine and a tumbleweed drifting through the parking lot. 

“I know”

“He loves you, Dean.” 

Dean’s eyes dropped to the ground. “I know,” he said again.

Charlie didn't say anything for a brief moment.“And do you love him?” He paused, hanging frozen in time. His throat went dry and a million moments flashed through his mind. Cas, marching into that drafty barn and declaring he had raised him from perdition. Cas, admitting he was having doubts about God, about the angels. Cas, slamming his fists into him over and over in that alley. Cas, confessing he loved him.

“Yes.” 

“Then-”

“Charlie, listen. We wouldn’t work. This life… it doesn’t leave room for love-” he shrugged. “-or happiness.” Dean folded his arms across his chest and kicked at a pebble on the ground. “I don’t deserve him. He’s an angel of the Lord, and I’m a grade A fuckup. He deserves so much better than me. I can’t give him humanity, can’t give him everything he loves. I’m nothing.” 

She stepped toward him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think he feels that way.” Her eyes followed the pebble on the ground as he kicked it and sent it flying. 

“Right now, I need to find my brother. That’s it. I can’t deal with anything else.” 

Charlie sighed and shouldered her backpack. “Listen, I don’t know you guys that well. And I don’t mean to pry or anything. But you’re hurting him, Dean. He would follow you to the ends of the Earth.” Dean clenched his jaw and looked past her, saw Cas standing in the doorway, and immediately controlled his face. 

“I couldn’t locate your phone, Charlie.”

She reached into her backpack and pulled it out, waving it at Dean with a cheeky smile. “Thanks, Cas. Stay safe out there. See you later, bitches.” She flipped them off with a devious grin and then turned and walked off into the darkness. They watched her walk away for a minute, then Dean turned and led Cas back into the motel room. 

“I need take a piss,” Dean said, pushing past Cas and into the bathroom. With shaking fingers, he unscrewed the lid of the bottle. He took a drink, letting far too much liquid pour into his mouth. His throat burned and he started coughing. Then he collapsed on the bathroom floor, leaning against the wall with the bottle hanging loosely in his hand. He drank more and his eyes clouded with tears. Vision swimming, he blurrily saw the door open. 

“Dean.” 

“Go away.” The angel sat next to him on the dirty bathroom floor and ripped the bottle from his hands. 

“Cas-”

“No, Dean. No.” He helped Dean to his feet, and Dean slowly shed his clothes and brushed his teeth, leaning on Cas the whole time. The angel helped him to bed and then went to stand by the window. 

“Goodnight.” 

It almost sounded like Sam. Almost sounded like his brother comforting him after a long hunt. Like his brother who stood beside him no matter what. Like his brother saying goodbye before jumping into the pit, Lucifer and Michael in tow. He rubbed his eyes and pretended not to notice the wetness in them. 

“Night, Cas.” 

For the first time since Sam had-- since he was gone, Dean remembered his dream. 

He was sitting in the Impala with Sam, outside some diner. The wheel felt weird under his hands, and for some reason the leather was gone. It was white hot metal, and it burned his skin. But he couldn’t take his hands off. 

“Dean, we need to focus on this case.” 

He couldn’t answer, he just stared at his hands smoking. 

“Hey, Dean. Are you drunk? People are dying.” Sam didn’t see the smoke, didn’t smell the burning. He just kept flipping through files on his computer, casting annoyed glances at Dean. 

Then his brother’s eyes glowed red and ice started spreading on the windows. 

“Hi, Dean.”

“Lucifer.” The pain started leaving his hands and rolling down his arms. They shook but his grip on the wheel only tightened. 

“Does that hurt, Dean? Because, let me tell you something-” Dean spat in his face, trying to rip his hands away to claw at the Devil’s throat. Lucifer wiped his cheek and smiled. “Now, is that any way to treat your brother? Your precious little Sammy. His pain is worse than that. So much worse. The agony, the fear, the torment. Dean, it’s hundreds of times worse than what you experienced. Worse even than what you inflicted. And you were good, Dean. Very good. The stories I’ve heard…”

“Shut up.” Dean gritted his teeth. His arms were shaking and he couldn’t focus. 

“And that’s not even the worst part, Dean.” For a minute, Lucifer’s face shifted, and he looked more like Sam. More emotion, more love, more _human_. Then the cold look returned and it was just the Devil wearing his brother’s face. 

“When I find-”

“The worst part is that you left him there. He’s still down here with me. And Michael. And you know something, Dean, my older brother is good at torture too.” Lucifer smiled and touched the wheel, making it burn more fiercely into Dean’s hands. “Oh, he claims righteousness, he claims to be daddy’s little boy. But poor little Sam is feeling the full force of God’s wrath. Oh, don't forget Adam. Imagine finding out you have two other brothers, just right before you go to hell. You might as well have dragged them both down yourself. They're in pain and it’s all your fault, Dean.”

Dean looked out the other window and cursed. He needed to wake up. He wanted to wake up. There was no way this was real. Lucifer couldn’t appear in dreams while he was in the cage. He’d poured over enough lore books on him to know that. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” Lucifer growled. His neck was jerked away from the window and he was forced to look into his brother’s face. His hands had gone numb, but they were still attached to the burning metal. 

“You could pull them out, Dean. You could do more. You’ve failed them. You failed Sam. You let him jump into the cage. And Adam… All Adam wanted was to be with his mom. He didn’t choose this, he wasn’t a hunter. And you dragged him into this. If you had just said yes, they would be safe.”

“Shut up!” he screamed. 

“Dean, wake up!” The car faded from view, and his hands finally released their grip on the wheel. 

He was tangled in his sheets, covered in sweat. Cas was sitting on the bed next to him, hands on his shoulders. His face was wet and his throat was dry. 

“It’s all my fault,” he whispered. 

The angel let go of his shoulders and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I sent them to Hell. I should have pulled them out by now, it’s been weeks. And--”

“Dean, it’s not your fault.” He sat up and pulled his legs from the sheets, swinging around so he was sitting next to Cas on the bed. Their legs were touching, and Dean took comfort in the contact.

“I didn’t say yes, Cas. If I had said yes to Michael, they would still be here.” Cas shook his head, and put his arm around Dean, his eyes wide and innocent, one eyebrow raised slightly. Dean nodded in answer to his unspoken question and leaned into him.

“That’s not true. Lucifer still would have made Sam say yes. Adam would still have been killed by that ghoul. And _millions_ would have died, possibly billions. You know you made the right decisions, Dean. You had no choice. And Sam made his own choices. You saved the world, but now… now we get him back.” 

Dean wrapped his arm around the angel’s waist, breathing deeply. “You did too, Cas. You saved the world. Hell, if it weren’t for you, the angels would have won a long time ago. You’re our wild card, you’re how we win.” He thought he could feel Cas smiling in the dark. 

“Cas?”

“Yes?” 

He took a deep breath and glanced out the window. Sun was starting to filter through the heavy curtains, the world was moving on with another day. Then he took the plunge.

“I know I take advantage of you. I know it’s not fair. And I’m sorry, Cas.” 

The angel pulled him tighter and he felt his breath on the top of his head. “It’s okay, Dean. You do your best.” 

“No, it’s not. And what you told me in that alleyway,” Cas tried to pull away but Dean pulled him back in, “You’re family, Cas. And I just need time, okay? I have to find Sam. That’s the only thing I have room for right now.” 

He felt Cas stiffen beside him but the angel relaxed into his arms again after a minute. 

“Of course, Dean.” The angel sighed quietly and then said with renewed confidence, “And we will find them.”

“How? We keep saying that, but how are we going to find him? We’ve gone through every lore book I got and we have nothing.” Cas stood up and faced him, studying his face. The sudden absence of warmth made Dean shiver, but he kept his eyes fixed on the angel. 

“Maybe Bobby could help.” 

Dean nodded. It was a good idea.

“We’ll drive up there today, then.” He rubbed his eyes as if that would make the headache that was growing at the base of his skull go away. Then he stood, head spinning. Knowing it was pointless, he glanced around for the bottle Cas had taken from him last night. Then he met Cas’ eyes and the angel shook his head. 

“I’ll go get coffee.” 

Before Cas could leave, there was a knock at the door. The angel glanced at Dean in confusion, and Dean stood up. 

“Castiel?” The voice came from the other side of the door, but it sounded powerful, filling the room. 

Cas walked over and jerked the door open to reveal a man and a woman.

“Asbeel, Kara. Why are you here?” Cas asked as they both walked past him and into the room. The man had jet black hair and a cut jaw. He looked cold and professional, but his eyes didn’t match. They were soft. The woman looked powerful, like she had control of the room the minute she walked in. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing?” the man said, his eyes raking over Dean’s bare chest. 

Dean gulped and quickly pulled on a shirt, his eyes darting between the angels.

“You rebelled, Castiel. You threw Heaven into anarchy, fought Michael and Lucifer, and then disappeared. And we find you here, with Dean Winchester.”

“Heaven is no longer my home.” 

“Brother, you are an angel. You do not belong _here_ with _him_ ,” Kara spat out.

“And I belong there?” The two angels walked further into the room, warily eyeing Cas. He had a cornered look in his eyes, and he kept glancing at Dean. 

“No.” The woman said, and her angel blade dropped from her sleeve.

“Kara, we didn’t come here to fight,” Asbeel admonished. 

“What’s happened to Heaven?” Cas asked.

Dean thought he saw a bit of the old Cas there. The soldier, the warrior, the one who was always at Heaven’s beck and call. 

“It’s chaos. There is no one to lead us. No orders, no rules. Everyone is lost, Castiel. And you did this to us. The apocalypse was not yours to question. You chose them,” she gestured at Dean with disdain painted on her face, “over your own.” 

“I find them much better than angels on every level imaginable.” 

Asbeel stepped forward and held up a hand to silence Kara’s next remark. “Come back with us, brother. Help us fix Heaven. Help us find God.” 

“God is gone,” Cas said bitterly. 

Asbeel gestured to Cas. “He brought you back.” 

Cas turned from Kara at his words and looked at the angel. “Then where is he now? Where was he when the apocalypse happened? When humans were slaughtering each other? I loved our Father, Asbeel. But I do not see him in this world.” Dean smiled softly, careful to hide his face from the other angels. Maybe Cas didn’t deserve to lose his father. Didn’t deserve to be cast out of Heaven. But at least he was learning.

“Maybe,” Kara said, “But we can build Heaven anew. You don’t have to live in shame forever. Look at this human. He’s broken, riddled with imperfections. How can you choose him over us? He is nothing, Castiel. And we are your family.”

“You’re wrong,” Cas’ blade dropped from his trench coat. “I have no family left in Heaven. Dean is my family.” 

Kara lunged at him and Cas raised his blade to block the strike. He knocked the blade from her hand and pressed his own against her throat.

“Leave.” 

She vanished and Cas turned to face Asbeel. 

“I wish you would come with me.”

“I can’t. But Asbeel, you don’t need to serve Heaven. Make your own choices, choose your own fate.” 

Asbeel smiled sadly. “Someone needs to keep Heaven open for righteous souls, Castiel.” Then he disappeared with his sister.

Cas was silent, staring at the place the angels had been standing. 

“Cas, you okay?” His shoulders were tense and Dean wished he could see his face, could help him. 

The angel stood for a minute, barely even moving to breathe. Then he slid his blade back into his sleeve and looked at Dean, his face set. “I’ll go get your coffee now.”


	7. Propositum

_Gold and diamonds cast a spell_  
_It's not for me, I know it well_

* * *

Bobby looked almost as bad as Dean. He’d let them in the door without question, still holding the bottle of whiskey he’d been working on when they got there. Inside, his house was littered with books and trash, empty bottles and loose papers. 

“You’re welcome to go through anything I got, but I don’t see that it’ll be much help, Dean. Sam’s gone. He sacrificed himself to save the world, and he’s not coming back from this one.” 

Dean nodded and shared a look with Cas. “Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.” 

They spent the afternoon looking through old books. A lot of them were in languages Dean had never even heard of--Cas took those ones. Dean read the same stories over and over in different books. They still had hundreds to go through, though. Part of him was still hopeful. 

Bobby dropped the book he was reading on the desk, sending dust flying everywhere. “I got a shipment of books from a hunter coming in next week. We could find more then. But I’m gonna call it a night. You want a drink, Dean?” He looked up from the page he had read six times already and nodded.

“Dean--”

“It’s fine, Cas.” 

Bobby looked between them, opened his mouth to say something, then left the room. 

Cas kept his eyes fixed on Dean. “You can’t keep doing this, Dean.” 

The page was swimming in front of him, and he dropped the book. 

“It’s one drink. Relax.” He stood up and joined Bobby in the kitchen. 

“So, how are you holding up, boy?” 

Dean snorted and took the glass Bobby was holding out to him. “How do you think?” 

The old hunter shrugged and took a drink. “I could take a guess.” His eyes tracked over Dean and he found himself feeling exposed and self-conscious. 

“I’m fine, Bobby. Or I’m dealing anyway.”

“How’s Cas?” 

Dean peered into the living room, sure Cas was listening to every word. 

“He’s good. He’s got angels on his ass, but what else is new?” 

Bobby nodded then walked back into the room where Cas was sitting, still engrossed in an enochian record.

“What have you boys been up to?” 

“Well, we hunted a mananagall out in California.” 

The old hunter looked up from the book he had picked up and frowned. “A mananagall? I’ve never even seen one. Thought they liked to hang out near the Phillipines.” 

Dean shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “Exactly what I thought.”

Bobby finished his drink and set the glass down. “So, you left the legs in the sun, burnt the son of a bitch?” 

“Nope. Cas vaporized the mother. It’s actually pretty great, hunting with an angel.” 

Cas didn’t even look up from his book. Dean sighed inwardly then immediately cursed himself. What had he been hoping to get out of it anyway?

Bobby chuckled softly and looked at Cas appraisingly. “Nice work, Cas. Looks like we’ll make a hunter of you yet.” 

A low growl came from his stomach and Dean stood up and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “I’m starving. You got anything to eat?” 

“I’ve been a little preoccupied, boy. I got booze but unless you want an old packet of ketchup... Wouldn’t mind if you picked up something from the store.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Nah.”

“Well okay, call or text me if you need anything.” Dean muttered while walking back into the room. Cas wordlessly set down his book and stood up. “Cas, feel like going on a run?” 

“I don’t need to exercise, Dean.” 

“For food, Cas. A supply run.” When the angel didn’t respond, he went on, “I’ll even let you drive.” He didn’t know where it came from. It had been an impulse. A way to distract himself after a disappointing day. It was something he would have said to Sam if they hit a roadblock, try and boost morale. But Cas wasn’t Sam. 

“I don’t know how to drive.”

“I’ll teach you.” It had been an impulse. A way to distract himself after a disappointing day. Cas didn’t say anything, but he took the keys from the table and walked to the car, so Dean followed. 

When he was in the driver’s seat, Cas sat looking at him. His features were composed, but Dean knew his face well enough to notice he was nervous. His eyes were widened a little, showing white around the edges. Maybe because he was driving Dean’s Baby, because he’d never done this before, or maybe Dean had screwed up so badly that just being around him made him nervous. But he was nervous nonetheless, and it was kind of adorable. 

“Hey, relax, man. It’s just driving. 15 year olds do this, hell, I was 12 when I learned. You’re, what, thousands of years old? You’ll be fine.” Cas nodded, and he looked a little more at ease. 

“Okay, the left pedal is the clutch. You use that to shift gears. The middle one is the brake, I’m guessing you know what that does. And the right is the accelerator. Use your left foot,” he reached out his hand and tapped Cas’ knee, resting his hand there, “for the clutch and your right for the other two.” 

Cas nodded, and he looked a little more at ease. “Okay.” 

He drew his hand back and pointed to the keys in Cas’ lap. “Alright, so to start the car, make sure you’re pushing down the clutch.” 

Cas put the key in the ignition and waited. “I don't understand. It’s not working.”

Dean raised his eyes to the heavens and sighed. Maybe this hadn’t been a great idea. “You gotta turn it, man.” The angel turned the key slowly. Baby roared to life beneath them and Dean smiled, glancing at Cas. The angel’s lips turned up as he met his eyes.

“Alright this is the gear shift,” he reached for Cas’ hand and put it on the lever, “It’s in neutral right now, but you want to move it into first,” he gently moved Cas’ hand so he could feel the shift and then he put it back in neutral. “Keep your foot on the clutch and go ahead and shift it.” 

“I believe I can do that.” Cas’ grip on the wheel tightened, and Dean could see the white on his knuckles. But he did as he was told. 

“Now take your foot off the clutch slowly, and as you do that press down on the accelerator.” 

“What?” Cas’ voice was a little high and Dean hid his smile. . 

“Just lift your left foot as you lower your right.” Cas nodded and looked at his feet. He slowly raised the clutch. 

Dean felt the engine shudder. “Accelerator, Cas. You gotta give it some--” 

The car sputtered and died. 

“It’s okay, man. Hell, even I stalled the engine when I first started.” He reached over and put the car back in neutral. 

Dean studied the angel’s face and almost laughed again. He had seen him fight monsters, rebel against Heaven, and he’d never seen him this scared. 

“Try again. Just give it a little more this time.” Cas didn’t move. 

“Cas?” The angel just sat, death-gripping the steering wheel. Dean reached for his hand and pried it off, which wasn’t easy. “What’s going on?” The angel tried to pull his hand away but Dean held it, stopping him. 

“Nothing,” he said, gluing his eyes to their intertwined hands. 

“Cut the crap.” Dean felt an edge creep into his voice and he immediately regretted it when Cas looked back up at him, blue eyes wide and vulnerable.

“I’m becoming human.” 

Dean paused, Cas’ hand heavy in his. “You mean like you’re losing your grace?” 

Cas shook his head. “No. I’m still at the highest power I’ve ever been. I mean that every step I take toward you, toward humanity, is a step away from Heaven. I don’t regret it. I would choose you every time.” Dean looked at his lap, avoiding Cas’ eyes. But he kept his hand in his. “But Kara was right. I abandoned Heaven after I ruined it. I left thousands of my brothers and sisters to figure out free will on their own. And for most of them, that means I condemned them to die. It’s my fault. And I’m on Earth, learning to be human.” 

Dean brushed a thumb over the angel’s hand and searched the angel’s eyes, looking for regret, looking for indecision. He only saw sorrow, and something he might have called love in another. Not in Cas though. He didn’t let himself think like that. 

“I’m sorry, Cas. You can go back there. To Heaven, I mean. Don’t let me-” Cas cut him off. 

“No, Dean. I’m staying. I’m helping you find Sam,” he wet his lips then continued, “It’s just that- I think I need to go back to Heaven after we find him. I’m supposed to be their leader, and all I’m doing is learning how to be human. I don’t mind that part. Humanity is beautiful. Flawed and beautiful and each day I spend among all of you I learn that. Heaven is still my home, though. And I owe it to my brothers and sisters to help. But this- you are more important right now.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask me that.” Dean squeezed Cas’ hand and let go. 

Cas put his hand back on the wheel and took a breath. Then he started the Impala again. Dean got ready to instruct him again but Cas shifted into first and the car was rolling down Bobby’s gravelly driveway, picking up speed. 

Dean looked at Cas’ feet and saw them resting on the floor, not touching the pedals. 

“You’re cheating,” he said dryly. 

“I’m driving.” 

Dean laughed. “Alright, buddy. But don’t think this means I’m giving up.” 

\-------

They wandered the aisles of the store with no real purpose. Bobby never texted them a list, so Dean just focused on essentials. Salt, shells, jerky, canned food, pie. 

Cas had laughed quietly when he put the pie in, and he almost took it out. Then Dean had wandered over to the liquor aisle and come back with a fifth of whiskey. 

“Dean--”

“It’s for Bobby, Cas. You aren’t getting on him about this, are you?” The angel narrowed his eyes, but didn’t complain when he set it in the basket. They were walking toward checkout when Cas stiffened, gaze fixed on the girl facing them. 

She noticed him watching and smiled, walking over to them. 

“Dean, she’s a--”

“Demon,” she finished with a smile, twirling her hair between her fingers. “Yeah, Dean knows, Castiel. We’ve met. Although I guess he might not recognize me in this meatsuit. It’s an upgrade in my opinion, far prettier than the last.” 

“You’re that bitch from the bar, aren’t you?” 

She laughed and turned to Cas. “Don’t know why he calls me that. I did him a favor, or didn’t he tell you?”

“Shut up,” Dean muttered.

“See, Dean here wanted to die. And I left him alive. Thought it would leave him a broken shell of a man. And it turns out I was right. Though I didn’t think he would convince his angel boyfriend to stay, not when Heaven is falling apart without him.” She raised an eyebrow as Dean pulled the knife from his jacket. 

“Really, Dean? This again?” Her laugh rang out again and he stepped forward, before Cas held him back. 

“Why are you here?” Cas asked. 

“To deliver a message. Also, the name’s Angelina, by the way. Thanks for asking.” She winked at Cas and Dean felt his blood boil. He took a step forward but Cas held him back and he steadied himself. 

“Angelina? That’s cute,” Dean said, sheathing the knife.

“Isn’t it?” She blew a bubble with the gum she was chewing, letting it pop before going on. “Listen, the message is from Raphael.” She picked up a magazine from the shelf and started flipping through it. 

“Why is a… _demon_ working for Raphael?” Cas said slowly. 

She smirked and looked up. “He pays for the best, and I’m the best, baby. Besides, I figured that working for Heaven would be less chaotic than Hell at the moment. Listen, all he wants is for Cas here to tell his little army of devout angels to stop following him. And to tell them he’s chosen a human over them. It’s no big thing, really. Without handsome here stepping up, more and more angels choose Raphael each day. He just needs a promise that Castiel will never try to take Heaven. And that he never returns.” 

“No big thing huh?” Dean said, narrowing his eyes. “So let me get this straight, he wants Cas to- to give up Heaven, to give up his... home?” Dean’s voice shook slightly as he fought to keep his anger in check. 

“Well, I could be wrong, but it doesn’t seem like Castiel wants it. Like I said, I’m just here to deliver the message. See you around, boys. And Dean, try not to get yourself killed. Well, unless of course that’s still what you want, then by all means...” she trailed off and blew another bubble, hand on her hip. 

Cas stepped forward and dropped his angel blade from his sleeve. “Tell Raphael that Heaven is not his to take. As soon as I’ve finished my business on Earth, I will lead my brothers and sisters down the path to free choice. I will destroy Raphael.” 

“And what’s your business on Earth? To rescue little Sammy from Hell? Good luck with that.” She dropped the magazine on the rack, laughed again, and then walked away. 

“What do we do, Cas?” The angel turned back to the checkout line. 

“Nothing. Heaven can wait.” Dean helped him put the items on the counter and then turned to face him. 

“Asbeel didn’t make it sound like that. Maybe they need you.” Dean pulled out a card and handed it to the clerk. 

“I will return to Heaven once we have safely retrieved Sam from Hell. In the meantime, I won’t help Raphael. There’s other angels. Others that will step up and lead the resistance. I’m not on any side. I’m not fighting in their civil war. Once I return, I will teach them peace. I’ll end the fighting.” Dean took his card back from the man and ignored the mystified look on his face. 

“Okay, Cas. If you’re sure.”

“Of course I am.” 

Dean grabbed the bags from the counter and walked to the car, throwing them in the back as he got in the driver’s seat. There was still tension hanging in the air, and he wanted it gone. It wasn’t like he wasn’t grateful Cas was staying. Like he thought he stood a chance without him. Like the thought of being without the angel terrified him more than he would ever say. 

But he wanted Cas to be happy. And he didn’t want him making sacrifices that didn’t need to be made just to help him. 

“Here, watch my feet. It’s really not that hard,” he said, starting the engine. The angel smiled softly and obediently kept his eyes fixed on Dean’s feet the whole way home. 

“Hear her respond? This is the fun part of driving. You get to know the car, to trust her.” 

“She’s beautiful, Dean.”

He smiled at the angel, then turned on the classic rock station. “I know.” 

\-------

Bobby’s shipment arrived a week later. By that point, they’d scoured every book he owned multiple times. Dean had also spent hours trying to dig things up on the internet with no luck. He had always let Sam do that part and he wasn’t great at it. 

He would also drink while they researched. He kept a flask in his jacket and filled it with Bobby’s store whenever Cas was out of sight. Dean was pretty sure Bobby had caught him once, but the hunter hadn’t said anything.

Sometimes he would still find his hand on his bare finger, searching for a ring to twist. Every single time, Cas noticed. Dean would look up and see his eyes glued to him. But he would push down the pain, push down the hurt and look back at his book. 

The day after the shipment arrived, he needed more than sips from a hidden flask. He’d spent the day looking at new books and he’d found nothing. 

Again. 

He grabbed the bottle Bobby had left from the desk and quietly downed as much as he could. Then he collapsed on the couch. He thought he heard Cas walk into the dark room, but his mind was already slipping into sleep. 

The cemetary was the same in the dream as it had been in real life, except for the blood. It was raining from the sky, covering his hands and face, drenching the dry ground. 

He raised his hands above his head to stop it, but it kept falling. It was thicker than water and it clung to his skin, to his clothes. Then it started pouring from his mouth and he fell to his knees, coughing and choking. 

Blood covered the grass and he collapsed, laying down. It kept falling from the sky, rising in his throat, and the metallic taste felt real, even in a dream. 

“Dean-” The angel’s voice pierced his dream and he sat up slowly, shaking slightly. “I think I found something. A spell.” 

“Cas it’s the middle of the night,” he paused as he registered what Cas had said, “Found something for what?”

“To free Sam and Adam from the cage. It’s not much, but it’s a start.” 

Dean suddenly felt wide awake, adrenaline shooting through him. The blood filling his vision faded to his memory. “What did you find?”

“The cage is powerful enough to contain Michael and Lucifer in their true form. If we were able to separate Sam and Adam from them, then they could be left there. We could get your brothers out.” Dean paused. This was the first real lead, the first real idea Cas had mentioned. 

“Is that even possible?”

“It wouldn’t be easy. But, there’s an energy that exists in Hell that makes the tie between a vessel and an angel very thin. I imagine the effect is intensified in the cage. This spell,” he handed Dean a book and pointed to the left page, “is very ancient. It can be used to dismiss an angel. Similar to an exorcism but in enochian. On Earth, the spell can only be used for the lowest level of the Heavenly Host, which is why I had never heard of it before. It isn’t very useful. But in the cage it could be powerful enough to expel an archangel.” 

_Hope_.

Dean felt it blossoming inside him. And he wanted to get rid of it. To send it packing and forget it was there. But it filled him, causing his heart to lift just slightly from the pit he’d dropped it in. Hope that he could get his brother back. 

“Okay, but what’s the catch?”

“Well, we can’t just fly them out. It’s a simple spell but it would take energy. We’d have to walk into the cage, and then walk out of Hell. Past every demon that’s rotting down there.” 

“So, all we need is a way into the cage? And we have that. We have the rings.” He’d never wanted to use them again, never even wanted to look at them again. Hell, he’d wanted to bury them right along with his mother’s ring. But he didn’t. He hadn’t had the guts. 

“That’s not all.”

“Of course it’s not. When is it ever easy for us?” Dean felt the anger in his voice, but he didn’t stop it. 

“The spell requires the blade of an archangel and the blood of a righteous man. The blood is easy, we have you. But the blade…” 

“So we’ll figure it out. This is a plan, Cas.”

“No, like I said, it’s a start. The probability that we would survive--Dean, I don’t see this turning out well. Getting the blade will be near impossible. And once we’re there… we would never make it out alive. And then the world is left without you, and without Sam.” Cas watched him pacing the room, eyes never leaving him. 

“Is that such a bad thing?” Dean asked quietly. The angel’s face softened. 

“Yes. This world needs you. I won’t let you die.” Dean bit his lip and tried to hold back the tears already slipping down his face.

“So, what? We just give up?”

“No. I’m just saying the plan needs work. We need a way to overpower an archangel, or to trick one. We need to have a real plan for getting out. A gate that leads back to Earth, for starters. And someone to open it from this side.”

“Alright. So we find a way back topside, we find an archangel, and you’re in?”

“Of course, Dean. I’m in no matter what stupid thing you decide to do next. But I would like to ensure that we both live through it.” 

Dean stood and walked over to him. “We will, Cas. We’re getting them out. You and me.”


	8. Recordatio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: child abuse, homophobic language

_The path that I have chosen now_  
_Has led me to a wall_

* * *

“Have you both lost your minds? Are you suicidal or something?” 

“Bobby…” Dean sighed and looked to Cas. It wasn’t really a surprise Bobby would react this way, but he figured the hunter would have at least considered the plan. 

“Go to the cage,” Bobby spat, reaching for the bottle of whiskey on his desk, “You want to pull Lucifer and Michael out of your brothers, let them be in their true form, and then claw your way out of Hell. And you haven’t found a way out?” 

“Bobby, we know it has holes, okay? But it’s a start. Don’t you want Sam back?” 

Bobby’s face softened and he leaned back in his chair, all the anger fading from his face. “Of course I want him back. You know I’ve been looking for a way, ever since this whole damn thing started. But the world lost Sam. We can’t afford to lose you too.” 

Dean looked at the floor. “I’m no great loss, Bobby. You know that.” 

“That is entirely untrue.” They both turned to Cas, who had stayed silent during Bobby’s outburst. 

Bobby raised his glass to Cas then took a drink. “So, you’re telling me that you’re on board with him throwing his life away like this, Cas? Because he’ll die. You’ll both die. And you’ll take Sam and Adam down with you. You can’t just walk out of Hell!” 

Cas stood from where he sat, legs crossed on the floor, and stared at Bobby. “I know Hell better than you. Dean knows Hell infinitely better than both of us. We will find a way out.” Bobby took a breath and looked at Dean, an apology in his eyes. But Dean could barely see it through the visions filling his head. Razors, hooks, the screams of tortured souls. He grabbed the whiskey from Bobby’s desk and took a drink to clear his head. 

“Bobby, we need you in on this. We can’t do this without you.”

Bobby took off his hat and ran a hand through his grey hair. “Seems like you guys are doing this with or without my approval, huh?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and inclined his head toward the old hunter. “Anything to get Sam out.”

Bobby shook his head at them slowly. “Guess that doesn’t leave me with a whole lot of options. Of course I’m in on it. Idjits." He paused and made eye contact with Dean, his face set. “I’ll help you. But you have to go in there to get them and yourselves out. Not just so you can sacrifice yourselves.” 

Dean nodded. “We’ll try.” 

“I’m serious, boy.” 

“I said we’ll try, Bobby. But I’m getting Sam out. I don’t care what it takes.” Dean turned toward the angel. “Cas, we need to find a demon. Someone who can help us find an escape plan. We can get the archangel blade later.” Cas looked pointedly at the bottle in Dean’s hand and he rolled his eyes and set it down. Then the angel vanished. Dean muttered a curse at the spot he had been before turning back to Bobby.

“Archangel blade?” Bobby said, eyes fixed on Dean.

“We need one for the spell. To separate Michael and Lucifer from their vessels.”

“You’re six levels of crazy, boy.” Dean snorted and sat down opposite of Bobby, grabbing the bottle he had discarded and pouring himself a glass.

“What’s going on with you and Cas anyway, Dean?” He downed the glass and poured another. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t know. But something’s different. I’m not some idjit, Dean. Did you make him mad or somethin’?” 

Dean leaned his head back and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Look, Bobby--”

“If this is about John--”

“It's nothing like that,” Dean said sharply. “A lot’s been going on with Cas right now. I mean Heaven’s going crazy and he’s not up there to stop it because he’s with me instead. Putting up with my shit. And if you hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t the only one who took the whole ‘Sam in hell thing’ as a loss, so he’s not exactly holding it together great. But in all of that, he’s staying here, pretty much willing to sacrifice his life to try to get Sam back, and becoming a great hunter along the way. So I don't know Bobby, guess there's been a lot.”

Bobby went to answer but Cas appeared in the room, hands gripping the collar of a girl. 

“Angelina,” Dean said, standing up, “Didn’t think you’d be crazy enough to stick around. Thanks for joining us.” 

Cas lifted her and threw her under the demon trap in Bobby’s office. She folded her arms and glared at them, nostrils flared and sides heaving. 

“Look, if this is because I didn’t kill you, why don’t you just do it yourself? Put a bullet in your brain right now, save us all the trouble.” Dean bit his lip and dropped his gaze, but he felt Bobby’s eyes on him all the same. He pulled the demon knife from inside his jacket and fiddled with it, waiting for someone to speak. 

“We need information,” Cas said stepping forward and splashing holy water on Angelina’s face. Her skin burned and she hissed at them, glaring through hooded lids. 

“Aw, Cassie. We feeling a tad upset? Your boyfriend acting up?” Cas threw more holy water on her face and she screamed. “My, my, we are touchy.” 

“We need to find a gate out of Hell.” Bobby stepped forward and pushed Cas back toward Dean, glancing briefly between them. 

“Out of? Why? You planning a day-trip? I have to warn you boys, it’s not that great this time of year.” 

Dean lunged forward with the knife and drove it into her thigh. She screamed again, falling backward and hitting the edge of the trap. Staggering from the recoil, she fell to the ground. 

“We know you aren’t some low-level demon, okay? You were sent to get information on me that night. Maybe for Crowley, maybe for some other demon. But you aren’t just some random demon-bitch. So I think you know how to get out.”

She spat at his feet and stood in the center of the circle, staring each of them down one-by-one. 

Dean sighed and turned around, grabbing the syringe of holy water he’d prepared. He showed it to the demon with a cold smile and stepped forward jamming it into her arm and plunging the liquid into her veins. 

Her scream was silent this time, but she collapsed to the floor, writhing and clawing at her skin.

He stepped out of the trap again and watched her, a certain dark pleasure filling him. Then he saw Cas watching and wiped the sneer from his face. She stayed on the ground, shivering and shaking for several minutes. 

Then she looked up, coughing up blood on the floor. 

“If I help you, you’ll just kill me.” Dean laughed and crouched on the floor, leveling his eyes with her. 

“Maybe. But maybe that’s what you want.” He stabbed the knife through her other hand and swiftly pulled it out, immediately ramming it through her hand again. 

She cried out again and drew her hand back, clutching it to her chest. 

“Okay,” she panted, glaring daggers. “Look, you have the horsemen's rings, right?”

Dean nodded, fingering the dagger.

“They were forged in Hell--long before it even was Hell. First you’ll need out of the cage, and they can do that. But then you’ll need out of the pit. They say if you take the rings to the place they were forged, you can open a gate back topside, as long as there’s someone waiting on the other side. The gate can open here wherever you want it, long as you have Death’s ring. The rest go in Hell.” Cas yanked Angelina to her feet and pressed his face next to hers, voice low and threatening. 

“Where were they forged?” There was a spark of rebellion in her eyes, but before Dean could step forward Cas’ eyes glowed and she whimpered, her body arched, glowing with white light. 

“A mountain. Called Wademiota. Do you need me to draw you a map?” Her words were bitter, but her voice sounded weak and defeated. 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Dean said, stepping into the trap with Cas. He signaled to the angel.

Cas grabbed her arms and held them behind her back. She struggled against him, but Dean drove the knife into her chest and an orange glow erupted in her chest spreading through her body. Then she lay still. 

“Alright, we got a way out,” Dean said, turning back to face Bobby. “Are you both in now?” 

“As soon as we get an archangel blade,” Bobby said tiredly, moving to collect the body. 

“I’m gonna get a drink.” Dean moved toward the door, but Cas raised a hand stopping him. 

“You need sleep.” 

“I need a damn drink, Cas.” Cas pulled his arm and turned him so they were face-to-face. He felt himself falling, lost in the blue. His eyes were wide and vulnerable, but anger was simmering just beneath the surface. He pushed down the desire to reach a hand to Cas’ face and nodded once. 

“Okay. I’ll sleep.” Dean let his eyes drop to Cas’ lips briefly before turning and walking to the couch. 

Cas pulled up a chair next to him and laid a hand on his forehead. Dean sighed softly and felt himself slip into a dream. 

For a moment, he felt at peace, then he recognized where he was. 

Rain fell in sheets from the sky, and his clothes were soaked through. He barely noticed though, he was laughing and running, the hand in his almost slipping from the freezing water. It was late in the afternoon, but the near-black clouds covering the sky made the world dark. It didn’t matter though, he felt warm and light amidst it all.

They ran through the park to a hill, and Dean looked at his companion, a grin on his face. He shoved him and the kid went rolling. Dean threw back his head and laughed, blinking rain from his eyes. Then he threw himself down the hill. When he got to the bottom, he stayed on the ground, covered in mud and laughing at the sky. 

The other kid lay next to him, smiling and throwing mud at him. Dean laughed again and grabbed more mud, tackling the kid and smearing it over his face. 

They rolled in the mud, their laughter ringing through the storm. Dean didn’t know what changed, exactly. But the energy in the air was different suddenly. The rain continued to fall, but Dean froze on top of the other kid, and dropped the fistful of mud he was holding. Their eyes connected and Dean smiled softly, leaning down slowly and gently brushing the soaked dark hair that clung to his forehead. 

Then he gently pressed his lips against the other boy’s. The boy--his name was Dillon--widened his eyes and drew back a little. Then he laughed softly and kissed Dean back. 

He was 17 years old, and that was his first kiss with a boy. 

He wasn’t sure how they’d been found. It wasn’t like Sam would snitch, and Dillon’s parents had been gone all that week. It was how they’d met actually, talking about their absent fathers. 

But as the rain slicked his hair and he leaned in for another kiss, he heard the squelch of boots in the wet grass behind him and tumbled off Dillon. He sat up and wiped the mud from his face, immediately sitting straighter when he recognized the face of his father. 

He was stumbling, clearly drunk. His jeans were covered in mud, and there were patches of grass on his shirt. Dean figured he must’ve fallen a couple times. 

Fear froze in his heart and he turned to Dillon.

“Run! Get out of here!” He didn’t blame the kid for listening, but a part of him wished he would’ve stayed. Dillon jumped up and bolted away, leaving Dean in the rain alone. 

John stumbled after him, screaming, “You better run you fucking faggot! Stay away from my son!”

Dean stayed on the ground, watching him, heart pounding. 

When Dillon was out of sight, John turned back to Dean, a cold smile on his face that sent shivers down Dean’s spine. 

“You want to explain what the hell is going on, boy?” Dean stared back at him, his throat too dry to speak. “Stand up!” John roared as lightning illuminated the sky.

He scrambled to his feet, slipping in the mud before he got his bearings to stand and face his father. 

“Winchesters are not fags.” John’s voice was low and dangerous. Thunder rumbled in the distance. 

“Yes, sir,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the ground.

“You’re disgusting, boy.” Dean looked up in time to see the fist coming, but not in time to dodge. John struck his face and he stumbled back, hand immediately going to his stinging cheek.

Before he could recover, John was gripping him by the collar and flinging him to the ground, Dean’s face ramming into the wet grass. Dean spat the mud from his mouth and staggered to his feet, facing his father again. He was terrified out of his mind, but he was desperate for his father’s approval. And if this was how he got it… fine.

“What now, boy? Gonna show me what a weak fairy you are?” Dean’s chest tightened, but he didn’t fight back. He’d learn the hard way that didn’t end well. 

John’s fists slammed into him, three punches to the gut in quick succession. The movements were sloppy and John was still swaying on his feet, but they were effective. Dean tried to pull air into his lungs, but he couldn’t. 

He felt himself being shoved down again, but he didn’t stand up. John’s foot connected with his ribs and Dean quickly raised his hands to cover his head. 

He couldn’t breath, and some part of his mind noticed the open cut on his cheek getting smeared with mud. But he just lay on the soppy ground, waiting for the next blow. It was aimed at his head, but his outstretched arms stopped it. Instead it connected with his wrist, sending pain shooting up his arm. 

He didn’t block the next one. His eye erupted in pain and spots swam in his vision, but John kept going. Slamming his foot into Dean over and over.

Finally, he stopped, breathing heavily. 

“You keep your brother out of this shit, you hear me? I can’t be raising two faggots.” Dean nodded, ignoring the tears falling from his eyes onto the wet ground.

“Don’t you ever do this again.” John kicked him again and he gasped, holding his bruised side. 

Then he was being hauled to his feet, his father’s face right next to his. The smell of whiskey on his breath made him gag, but John’s grip was immovable. 

Another fist connected with his bruised jaw, and he thought he heard something break. His face was almost numb now. He could feel it throbbing, but the pain was distant. 

“I didn’t raise--” John punched him again, a grim smile fixed to his face, “no fucking faggot.”

John let go, and he felt himself fall to the ground. 

“Never again. You hear me, Dean Winchester?” 

He was still crying. He hated when his father did this to him. He hated feeling weak, alone, like a child. But in the back of his mind, he knew it was him or Sammy. And Dean was going to save his little brother from this. 

“I said, did you hear me?” John’s foot came toward him threateningly and he raised his hands.

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good,” John said, staggering away. 

Dean stayed at the bottom of the hill, tears and rain mixing on his face. And that’s when he decided. 

_Never again._

It didn’t matter who it was, it didn’t even matter if John was alive or dead. Never again. He deserved every single insult, every broken bone, every shattered heart. He had it coming. All of it. Because he was disgusting, and wrong, and he deserved nothing. He would ignore his feelings, push them down, not think about them. Because the fantasy he had created in his mind--the fantasy of being happy--that wasn’t real. Anything he had though he had with Dillon wasn’t real. He didn’t deserve happiness. 

After that, he took a bus to Bobby’s. He couldn’t let Sam see him like this, and he couldn’t go to a hospital. He had thought Bobby could fix him up, but then he had taken him to a hospital anyway, even though Dean had begged him not to. The nurses had lots of questions, but they got out before they could answer any of them. He told the hunter everything, and Bobby had tried to comfort him. He’d cursed John and said he would kill him, would raise Sam and Dean by himself. But Dean just told him he had to get back to Sammy. And as much as Bobby tried to change his mind, he went back to John anyway. Went back to his little brother.

He woke up on the scratchy couch with tears streaming down his face. Cas was hovering anxiously over him, and Bobby was sitting in the corner, concern plastered on his gruff face. 

“Dean,” Cas started, “what did you dream about?” 

“Nothing.” Cas frowned and leaned forward, two fingers outstretched. He flinched when they rested on his forehead. “No, don’t you--” Before he could move back, the angel was in his head. The memory replaying before his eyes in just a few seconds. When Castiel sat back, he was shaking with anger. 

“Not a word, Cas,” he squeezed through gritted teeth. 

Bobby stood up from the corner and offered him a glass of whiskey. He took it gratefully and glared at Cas, who glared back. 

“You okay, boy?”

“I’m fine, Bobby. Any leads on Raphael?” 

Bobby stood up and walked to his books. 

“I found a summoning spell, need a few ingredients though. I was gonna send Cas but he insisted he stay until you woke up.” 

Dean frowned and sat up on the couch, shaking the heaviness from his limbs. “How long was I out?”

“Around fifteen hours. You had us worried, Dean. But if you’re okay, then we can go ahead with the spell. Right, Cas?”

“Then find the ingredients.” The angels’ voice was low and threatening, and it brooked no argument. 

“Why don’t you go? You’re the one with angel wings.” 

“I’m staying with Dean.” 

“Cas--” Dean started. 

“No. I’m staying.” 

Dean should have protested. Should have said it would be ten times faster if Cas went. That he would be fine here with Bobby. That he really didn’t care if the angel left. But he said nothing, instead turning to Bobby with what he hoped was a masked expression. 

The old hunter looked slowly between them and sighed in defeat. 

“I got a buddy that should have all of this. He’s just a few hours away, so I should be back before it’s dark. You two get everything ready here. I don’t want the archangel escaping til we’ve had a chance to talk to him.” Cas nodded and Bobby left the room. 

“Dean, that memory--”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s in the past. My dad was kind of an asshole about some stuff, but he was alright, you know? He really cared about us. He just wanted to protect us and he did the best he could.” Cas shook his head firmly and stood up, moving to get the holy oil.

“You can’t actually believe that. I know you worshipped your father. And he did sell his soul for you, but John Winchester does not belong in Heaven. What he did to you-- Dean, if I ever see him--”

“Well, you won’t. He’s dead. It’s fine.” Cas’ shoulders relaxed slightly “Not another word about him.”

He didn’t wait for an answer as he unstoppered the oil, making a large circle on the floor. 

“This won’t hold Raphael for long, Dean.” 

“I know.” 

Cas stared at him, his eyes never leaving his face.

“You know how we’re going to get him to turn over the blade, don’t you?” The angel nodded once, face grim. “You don’t have to do this, Cas.”

“I know.” 

Dean stood up and crossed the room, taking the holy oil from Cas and setting it on the desk. Then he stared into his eyes, looking for fear or resistance.

“I mean it. We can find some other way.”

“There is no other way. I said I would help rescue your brother from Hell. This is how we do that.” His eyes were pure, and Dean knew he was sincere. But he hated it. 

“Cas, what you’re giving up--”

“I don’t care. This is more important. Sam is more important.” Dean jerked his eyes away from the piercing blue stare. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course.”

They drew sigils around the room until Bobby got back. Some were designed to weaken the archangel but not harm Cas. Others were designed to keep any angels trapped in the room. None of them would actually slow down Raphael much, but they didn’t need that long. 

They laid out the ingredients for the spell then they all gathered around the small metal bowl while he mixed and read the incantation. There was a flash of green fire, then smoke clouded the room. 

Dean saw his eyes first, glowing bright white through the smoky haze. He quickly lit and dropped the match, and the circle came to life, flames licking high into the air. 

“Robert Singer, Dean Winchester, Castiel. It’s a pleasure.” His voice was somehow cynical and perfectly polite. It reminded Dean of a politician, which made him hate Raphael more than he already did. 

Cas stepped forward and the smoke cleared, leaving Raphael standing in the circle of holy fire. 

“You must know this won’t hold me long.” 

“Long enough,” Bobby said gruffly. 

“We have an offer to make,” Cas said evenly. 

“I don’t make deals with traitors, Castiel.” The angel turned slowly and looked at Dean, trying to read him. 

“We need your archangel blade,” Dean said. He didn’t see any point beating around the bush. Raphael laughed and the blade appeared in his hand. 

“Oh, is that all? Do you know how many of these there are in existence? This blade is of more value than you will ever know, and you expect me to hand it over?” 

Cas stepped forward and got his own blade out, twirling it slowly in his hand. “You give us the blade, and I will renounce any claim to Heaven. I will step down, tell those that want me as their leader that I follow you now. I won’t return. And all you need to give up is one blade.” Raphael stood frozen in the circle of holy fire, his face devoid of expression. 

“How do I know you won’t turn on me? Won’t try to take Heaven back?” 

Cas turned his body to face the archangel squarely. “You don’t. But I will deliver the message to the angels right now if you hand over the blade. And if you do not give it to us, you have my word that once Sam Winchester has been rescued from Hell, I will go to Heaven. I will use those that were inspired by me to turn all of the Heavenly Host away from you, and I will destroy you.” Raphael seemed to consider for one more moment and then he stepped forward, holding the blade out. 

“If you go back on your word, I will destroy you. I will destroy Dean Winchester.” Cas narrowed his eyes briefly then easily caught the dagger as Raphael tossed it over the line of flames, handing it to Dean. 

Then his eyes glowed and Dean heard him speak. Bobby keeled over, hands to his ears, but Dean heard Cas’ gravelly voice echo through the room, dripping with power.

“Brothers, sisters. Heaven was once a beautiful place. A place we all loved. But, it is not my home anymore. I will not lead you. I will follow Raphael. He can lead us, and will restore Heaven to what it was. I’m begging you to stop fighting, to follow him.” Cas’ eyes returned to normal, and he turned to Raphael, who nodded with approval. 

Bobby was still cowering on the floor, hands pressed tightly against his ears.

“Interesting,” Raphael said with a small laugh. 

“What?” Dean said roughly as Cas extinguished the circle of fire trapping the archangel. 

“You can hear Castiel’s true voice. I wonder why.” Then the angel vanished. 

“Cas, what the hell is he talking about? I thought I couldn’t hear your true voice? You tried to talk to me, right? After you pulled me out of the pit.”

“You couldn’t hear my true voice, Dean. It appears, though, that you can now.” 

“What does that mean?” Cas picked the archangel blade from where Dean had discarded it on Bobby’s desk and ran a finger over the metal. 

“I don’t know, Dean. It could mean a lot of things. Likely because you and I share a profound bond. You don’t need to be worried.” Dean felt heat rise in his face.

He turned to Bobby and helped the hunter up.

“So, we got it?” Bobby asked. 

“We got it.”


	9. Infernum

_The riches that I seek are waiting_  
_On the other side_

* * *

Dean slid the rings onto the archangel blade one by one and spun them around, watching as they slid up and down the blade, spinning rapidly. He looked up at Cas who stood by the window and smiled. Maybe it was their ridiculous plan tomorrow, but he just wanted to be close to the angel tonight. He didn’t care how, really. He just needed Cas. Which was normal. He stood up and stretched out. They had everything they needed. The blade, the rings, the spells. And tomorrow… tomorrow they were going to Hell. He laughed softly and walked to stand next to Cas by the window. 

“So, Cas, last night on Earth,” the angel glanced at him and he winked slowly, “Got any plans?”

The last time he’d asked that, it had turned out to be one of his favorite memories. The mission had gone surprisingly well, which was something he definitely hadn’t planned on. 

Flirting with your best friend is harmless when you’re both about to die, but when you live through it… Either way, it had gone right over Cas’ head. This time, though, he had to make it. He had to get out of Hell and drag his brother with him. 

Cas sighed peering out the window and turned to Dean. “Of course I don’t have any plans.”

“Well, we could do something. Any ideas?” 

Cas’ eyes narrowed and Dean gulped, keeping a frozen smile on his face. His head was fuzzy and he wasn’t thinking clearly and he was just gonna piss the angel off again, but he didn’t care. Then Cas finally broke eye contact and looked at the floor, his ears tinged pink. “I don’t have any ideas.” 

“I have a few,” Dean said in a hushed tone, stepping forward. 

Cas kept his gaze fixed to the floor, but Dean thought he saw a small blush creep into his cheeks. “Are you drunk?”

“What? No.” Dean said, hyper-aware of how close he’d stepped to Cas. He reached out and rubbed the hem of Cas’ trenchcoat between his fingers. 

“What are you doing, Dean?” He didn’t answer and Cas raised his eyes to meet his again. “Sam. That’s what you need to focus on. You aren’t thinking clearly. That’s what you said you wanted.” 

Dean drew a deep breath in through his nose. Cas was right. And he didn’t know what he was doing anyway. Of course he had to focus on getting Sam out. That was all that mattered. And he actually stood a chance. He might get to see his brother tomorrow. 

The soft rustle of boots on the floor made Dean look up and step back quickly. “What are you two idjits doing in here?”

“Nothing. We all set for tomorrow?” 

“Yeah, we’re good,” Bobby said.

“And you got the spell that keeps Death’s ring topside and sends the rest with us?” 

Bobby gave him a look that rivaled Sam’s bitchfaces and ignored the question. “You want some?” He asked, raising a bottle of whiskey. 

Dean looked up at Cas and met his eyes. “No-” 

“Yes,” Cas said quietly, reaching for the bottle. He poured two glasses and handed one to Dean, keeping one for himself. 

Bobby poured himself a glass before pulling a heavy book from the top of a scattered pile of papers on his desk, shaking it until a loose leaf of paper fell out. It was yellowed with age and it looked brittle to touch. Bobby smoothed it open to reveal a crudely drawn map. 

“You weren’t gonna leave this here were ya?” Dean took a sip from his glass and reached out to take the map from Bobby’s outstretched hand. 

Dean folded the map gingerly and put it in his pocket. “Course not. ” He walked to the desk and sat back down, raising his glass. “To Sam,” he said.

Bobby and Cas raised their glasses and repeated the toast. The angel drained his entire glass and set it on the desk. When Bobby raised his eyebrows at Dean, he just smiled. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Dean finished his drink. A warm buzz ran through him and he leaned back in his chair, content for a guy who was willingly walking into the inferno. 

He picked up the blade from where he’d set it on the desk and spun it a little. “Why don’t we just leave tonight? We got everything we need.”

“You’ll appreciate another night’s rest once we’re in Hell,” Cas said. 

“One more night’s rest won’t help Sam--or Adam,” Dean said roughly. 

“Yes it will,” Bobby interjected, looking quickly between them. “You have no idea how long you’ll be in Hell, Dean. I’ll keep the portal open for 2 hours up here, which should leave you about 10 days Hell time. And if you’re really down there for 10 days… you need to start at the top of your game.” 

Dean looked back and forth between them, tempted to fight back more. But he settled on a groan dramatic eye roll before leaning back in his chair and yawning. He looked up to find Bobby and Cas staring at him with raised eyebrows. “Well, I’m not sleeping now.”

Cas lifted his arms from his side in defeat and left the room. Dean looked after him and snorted. Drama queen. 

“Everything okay?”

“What? Oh, uh, yeah. Just ready to get my brother back.” Bobby said something else but he missed it. His eyes were fixed on the spot where Cas had been. After a moment, he stood. “I’m going to check on Cas,” he said, leaving the room. 

Cas was standing in the middle of the yard, between an old Ford and a limited edition Mustang Dean had always loved. He was looking up at the stars, his hands in his pockets, facing away from him. The night was clear, and thousands of stars littered the sky. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Listen, if things get rough down there-” 

Cas looked away from the heavens. “They won’t.” 

“But if something bad happens, something we don’t see coming, and-”

“Stop. This is going to work.”

A cool breeze blew through the night and Dean felt a shiver run up his spine. “Listen to me.” 

Cas tilted his head and stared intently at him, which he figured was a cue to go on. 

“Look, this is about saving Sam. I’m nothing to this world.” Cas went to say something and Dean hurried to go on. “I know you and Bobby may say different. But, come on, Cas. Sam’s way more important. And even if you disagree…” he trailed off and looked down at his feet. “I gotta save my brothers, man. So, if it comes down to saving Sam and Adam, or saving me. You save them. Got it?” 

Cas pursed his lips thoughtfully. “No. I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that. I’ll do my best to get all three of you out. But I’ll save you, Dean. Every time.” 

Dean smiled softly and opened his mouth. Then he stopped. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to tell Cas. But he knew whatever words tumbled out of his mouth he would have regretted them right after. So he shut up and held his feelings in. Just like always. 

He took another step toward the angel. They stood there for a while, only inches apart. Cas looked back up at the sky and Dean studied his face. He really had chosen a beautiful vessel. Perfect eyes, and those lips, even though they were always chapped and slightly parted. And in that moment Dean knew it would be so easy. So goddamn easy to just lean forward and kiss him. 

_Never again._

He wanted to. Couldn’t deny that. He wanted to feel those lips on his, to be with the angel, to run his hands through his dark hair. 

_Winchesters are not fags._

Then Cas looked away from the stars and straight into Dean’s eyes. And Dean knew that whatever this was he was feeling, he couldn’t act on it. His dad’s voice was too loud in his head. Screaming that he didn’t deserve happiness, that he was disgusting, wrong. And they had to focus on Sam and Adam. They were going to Hell tomorrow, and there was no way he was going to screw that up by doing something stupid now. He didn’t need any distractions when they were fighting for their lives. 

He walked over to Baby where she was parked in the yard and clambered on the hood. “Come ‘ere,” he called softly. 

Cas’ trenchcoat swung gently in the breeze as he walked over to the car. He pulled himself up and laid right next to Dean, scooting closer until they were separated by a matter of centimeters. Their hands brushed together and Dean didn’t pull away. He felt his breath hitch and he fought to steady himself. 

God, he was a fucking teenager. 

He tried to focus on the stars but was distracted by the heat radiating off the angel. Cas always felt slightly too warm to be human. It wasn’t a feverish warm, either. It was soft around the edges, wrapping around him like a cacoon. Not that Dean noticed. Dean’s mind started to wander to Sam and Adam. Even though they were both in hell, he wondered if they were okay. Okay enough anyway. They were with the Devil. And even if he got them out… there was no telling what this would do to them. 

“Yes.”

Dean jerked back to the present, wondering if he’d spoken out loud. “What?”

“Yes. They will be okay.” So Cas was reading his thoughts now. Great. The angel’s hand switched slightly against his and he struggled to pull his focus back to the sky, to the endless galaxies stretching out above them.

“They’ve been down there for weeks, man. And that’s even longer in Hell time. And Michael and Lucifer-”

“You can’t think about that now,” Cas said, nearly in a whisper, he laced his fingers through Dean’s and gently squeezed his hand. 

Dean turned his face to find Cas looking at him, his lips parted and concern etched into his face. Cas’ breath was warm against his mouth and he breathed it in deeply through his nose. He smelled like honey and pine, and the warmth that emanated from him somehow made its way into the scent. 

“Okay,” Dean mumbled, locking eyes with Cas. He wasn’t quite sure how long they stayed there, but when his eyelids started to feel like magnets that he couldn’t keep apart he silently got up from the car and walked inside, Cas trailing behind him. 

When they got inside, he sat on the couch and looked up. “Hey uh, Cas?” The angel furrowed his brows and tilted his head. “Can you, uh, stay with me? Just to help me sleep. I don’t want to remember- I don’t want to dream tonight.” 

Cas pulled the chair from Bobby’s bed and set it at the head of the couch. “I’ll watch over you.”

Dean smiled and leaned back. The exhaustion slowly faded from his mind and was replaced with peace. Sleep washed over him in waves and then he was lost to the world. 

\-------

Wind whipped through the yard and dust flew in miniature tornados around them. The sun beat down, but it was still cold. Perfect day to go to Hell. Dean pulled the rings off the golden blade--now stained with his blood for the spell--one by one and set them in the dirt, watching as they fused together. He took a deep breath and stood up from his squat looking to Bobby and nodding. 

“Let’s do this.” 

Cas let his angel blade fall from his sleeve and his eyes became slits. 

Bobby opened the book and traced his finger along the lines, then he started speaking in enochian. Nothing happened at first, then as Bobby’s voice got louder and more urgent, the loose gravel around the rings started to shake before falling into the Earth entirely, leaving a swirling black mass. The rings stayed suspended in the air, and Death’s ring disconnected from the others, rising til it was hovering about five feet above the ground. 

Dean checked his pocket one last time for the demon knife and then jumped into the black pit. He heard Cas step off behind him, and then everything went dark. 

He felt himself land before he could see anything. The heavy smell of sulfur filled his lungs and he coughed, blinking his eyes open. A red haze hung over everything and lightning flashed around him in every direction. Heavy black bars obstructed his view of the rest of his surroundings. Wind howled outside, interspersed with loud crashes. 

His eyes stung in the haze, and he ran his hands over the rough ground, fumbling until he hit cold metal. The remaining three horsemen’s rings were still connected, white hot from the spell. He clutched them, his skin stinging, and slipped them into his pocket. 

Lightning struck right outside the cage and he felt his hair stand on end. He stumbled to his feet and turned around, only for some unseen force to send him flying against the bars. He landed and looked around for Cas, but he wasn’t near him, and before he could find him, someone spoke.

“Dean Winchester.” 

The voice sent shivers down his spine. He knew it was Sam’s voice on the surface, but even when his brother was off the rails crazy, he didn’t sound like this. This cold, this calculating, this evil. Some of the red haze cleared and he saw the other side of the cage about ten feet away from him. Leaning against the bars was Lucifer, and right next to him was Michael in Adam’s skin. 

Blood spewed from his mouth as Lucifer raised a fist, his face contorting into a cruel smile. He felt his insides seize and he doubled over, red hot pain shooting through him. He silently prayed to Cas, unable to even open his mouth.

Dean couldn’t see the angel through the haze, but he could feel the warmth emanating off him from the other corner. 

His eyes filled with tears and he felt close to blacking out, but then he heard a deep voice ringing out, seeming to echo and bounce in his head, taking on a life of its own. Cas’ true voice. Michael and Lucifer both staggered back looking frantically around the cage. 

There were just three words to the spell. After Cas spoke the last word the smoke around him cleared and his wings flared in a shadow behind him. He threw the archangel blade up to the top of the cage, where it stuck. Then a bright white light glowed in its center and it started cracking. Dean averted his eyes but the explosion left his ears ringing. 

When the light was gone, the red haze seemed even darker. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Cas. He felt his grace run through him and the pain in his stomach disappeared. With Cas’ help, he stood up, wiping blood from his mouth. They quickly crossed to the other side of the cage where Sam and Adam’s bodies lay. 

“Did it work?” Dean asked, raising his voice over the thunder and wind howling around them. 

Cas nodded and hauled Sam to his feet, draping an arm over his shoulders. Dean darted forward and lifted Adam.

Sam was blinking and looking around him in confusion. 

“Dean? Cas? What the hell… this is a trick.” 

“We gotta go, Sammy.” His brother hesitated and pulled back from Cas, widening his stance for a fight. “Poughkeepsie.” Sam’s eyes widened and he stumbled into Cas, who caught him. 

Adrenaline rushed through Dean’s veins. Michael and Lucifer would be unable to appear in their true forms for only a short time, and then they would be able to manifest as the most powerful version of themselves they had ever faced. 

He pulled the rings from his pocket and threw them on one of the thick bars, muttering the incantation before they even stuck. A swirling blue portal appeared and Cas stepped through it with Sam in tow. 

Dean moved to follow but felt something tugging him back. Adam was awake and wild eyed, staring at Dean with horror and confusion. “No. Get away from me!” He staggered back, hitting one of the bars and holding onto it. “You aren’t real.” 

He gripped Adam’s wrist, trying to maintain his hold on the sweaty skin and dragged him toward the portal. 

“Come on!” he shouted, his voice low and commanding. Adam looked around the cage, terror filling his features. “Adam, it’s me. Come on.” His brother looked at him, his eyes roaming over his face. Dean felt the pull against him slacken for a moment and he jerked Adam’s wrist, sending them both tumbling through the door as the cage behind them filled with pure white light. 

They landed on top of Sam and Cas, sending them all sprawling onto the toxic ground.

Dean sucked air into his lungs, trying to regain control over his mind, to take the wheel back from pure instinct. It felt like they were in the desert, sand beneath them, hot sun beating down. But everything was dark, still coated in that red fog. The air was rancid, a mix of rotting flesh and sulfur, and every breath hurt. But they were out. Adam and Sam were sitting right there, and they were out. 

A tortured scream behind him caused him to jump to his feet and whirl around. 

The cage hung suspended in the air and it was glowing. Half of it illuminated with pure white and the other with a deep red. The scream grew louder as the light grew more intense, but the cage held. The archangels were trapped inside in their true forms. As he watched, the two lights started mixing with each other, and lightning sparked at every contact. 

He turned back to find Sam and Adam staring, both sitting motionless with wide eyes and slack jaws. 

Cas was getting to his feet behind them, and Dean followed suit. 

“We need to get moving,” Cas said, glancing anxiously around them, “find some shelter.” 

Dean nodded and looked down at his pale, shaking brothers. His eyes were swimming in tears, but he decided it was because of the toxic smoke surrounding them. 

With shaky steps, as if afraid this would end if he moved too suddenly, he closed the short distance between him and Sam and reached a hand to help him up.

Sam took it and he heaved him to his feet straight into an embrace. 

“It’s me, Sammy. This is real. It’s me,” he mumbled. Sam’s arms tightened around him. After a minute, they broke apart and Dean turned to Adam, reaching a hand down and pulling Adam into a hug.

“It’s okay, Adam. I got you.” When they broke apart, tears were streaming down Adam’s face, and he bit his lip to stop them. 

“Dean,” Cas warned, glancing at the cage. 

“Look, guys, we can talk later. We will talk later. But we aren’t out of the woods yet. We need to get moving.” Sam ran a hand through his hair and nodded his understanding. Dean smiled, trying to hold back the hope, the joy, the emotion coursing through him and stay focused. Then he turned to Adam. The kid was staring at the cage, shaking slightly. 

“Adam? You good?”

Adam gulped and his eyes widened further, but he turned away from the blinding light of the trapped archangels toward Dean, and Dean took that as enough of an answer. 

He knelt to the ground and picked up the horsemen's rings, now icy cold. “Alright, Cas. Where to?”

Cas held his blade in front of him cautiously and started walking away from the cage. The three Winchesters followed him silently, senses on high alert as the red fog grew thicker. The light from the cage faded and soon they could only see a few feet ahead of them. 

After an hour they came to an indentation in the ground that opened into a shallow cave. Cas jumped down and reached a hand up to help the other three. When they were all safely inside, there was barely any room to move. But the smoke was less thick, and Dean felt himself breathing easier. 

Adam and Sam slumped exhausted against the wall, their legs taking up all the space on the floor. Dean and Cas were left standing, their shoulders pressed together. 

Dean searched for something to say. Something to break the tense silence that had settled over them. Where could he even start? How could he begin to tell them how sorry he was, how he’d tried to come sooner? He settled on leaning against the cave wall and saying nothing. 

After a minute, Sam spoke up. “How did you guys get down here?”

Dean pushed off the wall he was leaning on and glanced briefly at Cas. “The rings. We just used them to open up the door to the cage again. And then we separated Michael and Lucifer from you with a spell.”

“Then, what now?” Sam’s voice was different than it had been. And he looked different too. His eyes were sunken and even the slightest noise had him whipping his head around before slumping down again, exhausted. But he was alive. He was alive and out of that goddamn cage.

“We have a way back topside. Just need to walk through a bit of hell, and we’re there.” 

Sam snorted and ran a hand through his hair.

They lapsed into silence again and Dean studied Adam. The poor kid looked far worse off than Sam. His eyes were completely blank and he was looking at the wall Dean and Cas were leaning on with a vacant, open-mouthed stare. 

Dean pulled a flask from his jacket and handed it to Adam. “Thought you might need this.” The kid ignored it, and so he held it out to Sam instead. His brother took it and drank gratefully, wincing slightly at the burn. 

Lightning struck above them and Dean’s hairs stood on edge. Sam jerked his eyes up and bit his lip, and even Adam flinched a little. But as soon as the light flashed through the tunnel, it was gone. Dean grabbed the flask from Sam and took a sip before screwing the lid back on and tucking it back in his pocket.

Dean glanced down at Cas and the angel tilted his head with narrowed eyes before nodding to his brothers on the floor. “We should get going.” 

Without waiting for a response, he pulled himself from the cave and reached a hand down to help Cas. Their fingers intertwined for a moment slightly and he smiled slightly. Then he inwardly cursed himself and pulled his brothers out. 

Cas put a hand on Adam’s shoulder and pulled him ahead, moving at a brisk walk. Somehow, Cas always knew what Dean needed. And right now he needed time with his brother. 

When they were out of earshot, he turned to Sam. 

“Are you okay? I mean- obviously- look, I know you’re not okay. But, are you good?” 

_Wow, awesome, Dean. That made sense._

Sam scratched his shoulder. “I’ll be good enough until we get out. And then… then we’ll deal. To be honest, man, I don’t remember a lot of it. I blacked out, I guess. Lucifer and Michael,” he shuddered and closed his eyes tightly, “they’re gone now. So, yeah. I’m good.” 

Dean cleared his throat and punched his brother on the shoulder. “Good. And, uh, Adam?”

“I don’t know… I think he will be. Maybe, eventually.” They walked in silence for a minute, the dry, burnt ground crackling beneath them. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you keep your promise?” 

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing as he collected his thoughts. “Yeah, for a while. Well, one case. But if we hadn’t found a way to get you, then I would have kept… you know. I put you first, Sam. I always will. You had to know I would. ” 

“Of course, Dean. Guess I had to try right?” He asked with a sad smile. “What was the case?” Sam’s voice was stiff, and Dean knew he was just looking for something to distract him. Something to take his mind off the fact they were trapped in hell, with only a risky escape plan. 

“A manananggal in Cali. You would have liked the sick son of a bitch. ”

“Wow I didn't know those-

“Yeah me neither,”

“Damn. A manananggal… And?”

“And what?” 

“Was Cas any good?”

Dean smiled softly, careful to mask his expression when Sam looked over at him. “Yeah, he was pretty good. It was a good case. We also met a nerdy IT girl.” 

“Don’t tell me, you and her-”

“Charlie? No way,” he said quickly. “She’s like the sister I never had. Besides she was, uh, not into guys.”

“Unlike you,” Sam muttered under his breath. It was so quiet Dean could barely make it out and his brother went on before he had the chance to answer. “Well, thanks for keeping your promise. I knew Cas would look after you.” 

That time he didn’t try to mask his expression. He just looked at the angel in front of them and smiled. “Oh, very funny, Sammy. You don’t think I could get by without his angel ass?” 

Sam just started to laugh. “Would you want to?”

He scratched his head then shoved Sam. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.” 


	10. Captum

_The promised land is waiting_   
_Like a maiden that is soon to be a bride_

* * *

Smoke, lightning, thunder, sulfur, screams, desert, burning, death. It all became a blur, washing in front of Dean’s face as they fought to crawl out of Hell. 

They’d been down there for 3 days now, according to the timer he’d started. And they were only a day away from freedom. They could see the peak in the distance, their way out. 

Adam still hadn’t said a word. When they stopped for the night he would slump down against whatever godforsaken hole they’d climbed into and stare blankly across from him. He had barely eaten, he didn’t join in the brother’s banter that had resumed as soon as they were back together, and he didn’t respond to any of Cas’ quiet comments. Sometimes Dean thought he saw tears slipping down his face, but he didn’t mention it. They had to get out of Hell before anything else. 

Cas found a cave larger than any they had found before, and they decided to stop early. They were so close now, but they were tired. There was no point in them killing themselves to make it to their destination. They still had plenty of time to spare before Bobby closed the portal. 

Even though they hadn’t seen any demons since they’d left the cage, Cas did a quick sweep of the area before they settled down. They broke out the jerky and crackers from Dean’s backpack and all sat around the cave, too exhausted to talk. 

Dean figured they had about three hours before Cas would decide they needed to get moving again. And he needed to sleep. He had only slept once since they’d gotten down there, choosing instead to keep watch while his brothers caught a few minutes, and ignoring Cas’ offers to keep watch alone. And he honestly didn’t know if he could sleep again, but now his eyes were heavy. He also decided he wouldn’t be much use if anything happened while he was sleep deprived. 

His last time in Hell had been different. He’d been captive, trapped. But it was the same place, the same nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. And it made him remember who he’d hurt, who he’d killed over and over again. He could see their faces, could feel the razor slicing into their skin, and it made him sick. 

He rested his head on the hard cavern floor and stretched out. He tried to ignore the screams that echoed in his head the minute he closed his eyes, but they just got louder. To add to it, they were now mixed with his dad throwing abuses at him. He gave up before it had even been three minutes. 

Dean sat up and glanced over to see Adam and Sam passed out on the floor. Sam had told him he’d been having nightmares, and he could only assume Adam was the same. They both always were completely drained, mentally and physically, and they had no trouble falling asleep whenever they got the chance. Cas turned around at the sound of Dean moving and tilted his head, his head tilted in concern. He was standing by the mouth of the cave, and his face showed the flickering red of the fires without. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Can’t sleep,” Dean muttered. 

Cas took a step toward him. “I could help.” 

Dean glanced quickly at Sam--his brother didn’t need any more fuel to get under his skin--then back to the angel. He looked so innocent, so earnest. And Dean was exhausted. “Sure.” 

Cas shrugged off his trenchcoat and bunched it up, then he sat cross-legged on the floor. He set the trenchcoat on the hard floor next to him and Dean rested his head on it, nestling into Cas’ leg. He felt the angel’s fingers in his hair and stiffened, as John’s voice started getting louder in his head. Then as suddenly as it came, it was gone and he felt himself relax. 

They were in Hell, and he needed to sleep. So, fuck it. 

His eyes grew heavier and he leaned into Cas’ hand, letting himself drift off. 

\-------

Dean didn’t dream. Or, if he did, he didn’t remember. When he woke up, Cas’ hand was still resting gently on his head, and Dean’s face was buried in his trenchcoat, the smell of Cas overpowering the smell of Hell. He opened his eyes to find Sam staring at him, a small smirk on his face. He flipped him off, then sat up, handing the trenchcoat back to Cas.

As Cas slipped it back over his shoulders, Dean looked back at Sam. But his eyes had glazed over again and the smirk was gone, replaced with a set and serious line. “We should get moving, right?” 

“Yeah,” Dean replied. 

He stumbled to his feet then helped Sam up. Cas helped Adam, who mutely stood like a rag doll. He did take some of the jerky Dean passed around though, so at least he was making progress. 

They all walked out of the cave into the barren landscape, lightning flashing rapidly in the distance. 

“Were you with me all night?” Dean asked Cas in a hushed tone. 

“Of course.” 

“Then, who was keeping watch?” 

Cas sighed briefly through his nose. “No one. But we’ve experienced no resistance so far. I’m sure it’s fine.” 

“Yeah, I-”

An unrecognizable grunt came from the shadows, cutting Dean off. “Hmm not quite.” The male teased with his Southern drawl 

They both whipped around to find a demon emerging from the shadowy darkness behind the cave. Following him were seven other demons, their black eyes flashing in the flickering light. 

“Shit,” Dean muttered. 

“Well ain't this a lovely sight?” The demon gave them a smirk, and Dean bristled. “Sam and Dean Winchester, Castiel, and-” he paused, gesturing to Adam. “Now who the fuck is this one?” 

Dean pulled the demon blade from his coat and pressed an extra angel blade into Sam’s hand. Cas already had his blade in his hand and he had it raised slightly. 

“No one’s going to enlighten me, then?” His drawl grew thicker and his voice seemed to drip, every word more drawn out than the last. “Still, guess it’s my lucky day.” 

Before Dean could gather himself, he lunged forward and slashed his long fingernails against Dean’s face, sending him staggering backward. Dean slashed blindly with the knife. There was a flash of orange to his left as Cas plunged his blade into a demon’s chest. 

Then there was a demon on him, tackling him to the ground. His arms were pinned to his side, and it snarled at him, grinning cruelly as it raised a fist. Dean slammed his head forward, knocking it off him, then plunged his knife into its neck, not waiting for the thing to die before he was on his feet again. Sam was on the ground, knocked out, and Adam was being held by one of the demons, submitting passively to the ropes being wrapped around him. Cas had four bodies at his feet, but he too was being forced to his knees. 

Dean moved to help him, but felt a hand on him from behind. Strong arms grabbed his hands and pulled them sharply behind his back. He tried to squirm away, but the demon wrapped a thick cord around his hands.

“So, Dean, you thought you’d pop down to Hell, spring Sam and-” he stopped, and let out a short laugh, his eyes growing wide. “This is John Winchester’s other son. Michael’s vessel. It really is my lucky day.” He let the last word linger in the air.

Dean twisted around and saw the demon holding him. She looked to be about 8, and shiny pink ponytails held her hair in place. For being two feet shorter than him, she was way stronger. He wondered briefly what the hell she’d done to go to, well, Hell. Then he turned back at the main demon and looked him squarely in the eye. 

The demon stepped over one of the bodies of his fallen party and gave a covert hand signal to the two demons holding Cas. One of them plunged a knife into Cas’ shoulder and the angel cried out, leaning forward and fighting against the engraved cuffs they snapped on him. 

“What do you want?” Dean growled. 

“Well,” he stepped gingerly over another body, walking toward Sam and Adam. “I should take y’all to my boss, but,” he leaned down and waved a hand in front of Adam’s face, then shook Sam. Neither responded. “We’re gonna have a lil’ fun first.”

He whistled and a giant hound with glowing red eyes and rippling muscles under its shadowy skin came bounding as if from nowhere. The demon lifted Sam and Adam as if they were nothing onto the beast, then turned toward the desert. Dean was hauled to his feet, and after another blow, Cas was too. 

The air seemed to grow thicker as they walked. Every so often, the demons would stop, shoving the prisoners to the ground. They were hardest on Cas. He had blood dripping down his arms from multiple knife cuts. The blades must have been specially treated, too, because his grace was seeping out of the cuts, and they weren’t healing. 

On the third one of these stops, Sam woke up, flailing wildly around on the top of the hellhound and knocking Adam to the ground. The demon leading the hound was on him in seconds, tying him down.

Then the lead demon nodded to the two in charge of Cas and Dean, and they were trussed next to Sam. 

“We’ll stop here for a while.” His lips curled upward into a cold smile, and he pulled a glinting knife from his side. 

The demons gathered in a small circle, leaving the hellhound to watch them. Dean couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were gesturing between the prisoners and the wide expanse of Hell in the distance. 

“You good, Sam?” Dean asked in a hushed tone. 

“Yeah,” his brother grunted. “How are we getting out of this one?” 

“Don’t know yet.” Dean paused, drawing in a deep breath. He craned his neck to see the angel. He was sitting passively, a small pout on his face. “Cas, what’s the deal? Those cuffs keeping you powerless?” 

“Yes.” 

Dean huffed out a sigh. “Great. We’re fucked.” 

“Yes,” Cas said again, and Dean’s lips twitched upward. 

The demons wandered back over and the leader crouched to be eye level with them. He lowered his knife to Dean’s arm and pressed it in, dragging it slowly and firmly over his skin. 

“Now what I don’t understand,” he pressed it further in, and Dean gritted his teeth to stop from screaming. “Is how you thought you could take a little field trip to Hell, could walk through it, and then come out the other side. Especially you, Dean. I thought you knew this place...” He yanked the knife from Dean’s arm and pointed the hilt to him. “Maybe I could let you take over, huh? Rumor has it you’re far better than most at this.”

“Shut up,” Dean spat. 

“If you torture your brothers and the angel, I’ll let you walk.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes and his lips curled upward in a sneer. “Bite me.” 

He shifted his wrists, trying to find a weak point in the bindings. Instead he found Cas’ hands pressed against his, the handcuffs cold against his skin. As the demon struck his face, he ran his hands over the cuffs, looking for a keyhole. 

The demon turned from Dean to Cas. “What about you, angel? Reckon you might want to wanna give it a try?” He held the knife out to him. “You feathered asshats know your way around the blade almost as well as us, maybe better.” 

Cas didn’t say anything, and Dean could only see his face out of the corner of his eye. The demon shrugged and moved on to Sam. Before he could even speak, Sam spat in his face.

“Go to Hell.” 

The demon barked a short laugh. “Look around, Sam. Sure ain’t no Heaven. Thought you was supposed to be the smart one. Still, I didn’t expect much from you. You were Lucifer’s vessel, but it was always Dean that enjoyed the dark parts.” 

He stood up and walked to the end of the line, crouching again in front of Adam. “What about you? The youngest, the weakest, the one who wasn’t even a hunter. Give it a try?” He held the razor out to him, and Adam looked up at him, responding to the outside world for the first time since they’d gotten out. 

“No,” he said, his voice dry and hoarse. 

The demon stood and stretched out. “You hero types ain’t no fun.” Then he flicked his hand and the young girl demon stepped forward and jammed a knife into Cas’ stomach. Dean heard him cry out softly and his heart dropped into his stomach. Cas was right there, right next to him, and there was nothing he could do. 

Dean watched from the corner of his eye as the demon dragged the blade up from his stomach toward his ribcage. 

“Not a good enough view, Dean? Sorry, I forgot this was your boyfriend we were torturing.” The lead demon lifted him and dumped him to the ground across from Cas. 

The girl yanked the knife from Cas’ body and rammed it in again, on the other side of his stomach. He didn’t make a sound, but Dean could see tears glistening on his face. The combination of the cuffs and the blade were taking their toll on his system. 

She pulled the knife out again, but something was wrong. She stood and looked around, glancing anxiously at the other demons. Then there was a blinding flash of light and the demons screamed out. The hellhound jumped to its feet and snarled at an unseen foe, but it and the demons were disappearing into black smoke. 

Dean looked past his brothers, past Cas into the dim shadowy expanse of desert. As the light faded from the sky, a figure emerged. He was covered in dirt, his clothes were ripped and hanging loosely on his thin frame, and his head hung tiredly. And Dean froze. Because he would know that slumped frame anywhere, no matter how battered, how broken. 

“Dad?” Dean whispered. Sam whipped around, and even Adam seemed to perk up. 

John Winchester walked over to them and pulled a knife from a sheath at his side, quickly slicing through Adam and Sam’s bindings before moving to Dean. He rushed toward Cas, pulling a lockpick from his jacket and undoing the cuffs. At least the lock wasn’t magical. 

The minute his hands were free, Cas’ eyes lit up and the cuts covering his chest and stomach glowed with white light. When he saw the angel was okay, Dean stood up, afraid that when he turned around it would all be fake. A hell-induced fever dream. 

But it wasn’t. His father stood with an exhausted smile on his face, slipping his knife back into its sheath. 

“Dad- What- Why are you- I mean-” Dean stopped, looking back at Sam for help. His brother staggered to his feet, helping Adam up on the way. Before he could reach to help Cas too, the angel was on his feet, his eyes still glowing and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Cas?” Dean said warily. 

The angel shoved past him and grabbed John by his coat, drawing his fist back and punching him squarely in the jaw. 

“Cas!” Dean shouted, rushing forward and grabbing the angel’s arms. “What the hell, man?” He grunted as the angel let himself be pulled off by Dean. 

“Dean, what he did-”

“Stop it, Cas.” Dean said roughly. And the angel backed down, letting his hands fall and glaring at John. 

John rubbed his jaw and looked the angel up and down. “Is it true what that demon said?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. And then, before John could answer, “Dad, what are you doing in Hell? We saw you go to Heaven.”

John smiled bitterly and shifted his jaw from side to side. “I don’t know. Guess some demon had it out for me and put in a word to get me dragged back here. I was in Heaven for a while, then one day… woke up with a blade sticking out of my chest.”

Dean looked him up and down, taking in the scars covering his body. “How did you get away?” 

“Just made a break for it. Only been out a day. I figured they would catch me before too long.”

“What the hell was that spell anyway?” Sam asked, gesturing to the smoky outlines on the ground of where the demons had been. 

“Sort of an exorcism for when you’re already in Hell. Picked it up in Heaven. They won’t be gone forever, but they’re in some other corner of this pit.” 

Dean nodded, running a hand through his hair and glancing back nervously at Cas. 

“And how are all of my boys trapped down here? You didn't make a deal, did you?”

Dean sighed. “No, well, yeah. Technically. But that was a while ago. Sammy rode the devil into the cage, and Adam took Michael.” John’s eyes widened in surprise, then he glanced at Adam, who was eyeing him with a curious but surprisingly open expression. 

“How did you get dragged into all this?” He asked softly, looking straight at his youngest son. 

“Angels.” 

“And that’s what this one is?” He pointed to Cas, disdain growing on his face. 

This time Sam cut in.“Yeah. Saved our asses more times than I can count.” 

John smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. It was straight at Dean, the same smile he’d seen before he was on sopping wet ground, holding up his hands to stop his father’s foot from connecting with his head. Dillon’s eyes, clear and full of life flashed before his eyes and he shut them tight, trying to stay in the moment and not get sucked into a memory. 

“So, was it true then, Dean? What the demon said. This angel is your-”

“That’s none of your business,” Dean said sharply. 

John raised his eyebrows and stepped forward, but a glance at Cas’ threatening stance stopped him. “Any chance your angel… friend here could get me a ride back upstairs.”

“That’s not where you belong,” Cas said quietly, his nostrils flaring. 

“What did you say?” John growled, pulling the knife out again from its sheath. 

Cas looked at the knife with disdain, and his eyes narrowed further. “It’s not where you belong. You belong here, in Hell. You belong as far away from paradise as a human can be. You belong on the rack, being tortured for eternity.” Cas said, his voice rising. 

“Guys-” Sam started, before Dean shot him a look, sending him stepping back. 

Dean held a hand out to stop Cas from going after John again. “We don’t have time for this. Just drop it.” Cas was shaking with barely contained rage, his eyes fixed on John. “Cas, look at me.” The angel turned his head slowly and relaxed a little when he met Dean’s eyes. “I told you, it was a long time ago. And we need to get moving. Can you send him to Heaven or not?”

“Yes,” the angel muttered. 

“Okay. Then that’s what we’re doing,” Cas stepped forward again, fight in his eyes. “Got it?” Dean added firmly. 

“Fine,” he said, turning away. 

“Why does the angel think I don’t belong in Heaven, Dean?” John’s voice was low, and Dean instinctively shrunk back at the sound. Suddenly, he was a scared kid again, unwilling to see himself as anything but a mess his father had to clean up. 

“You have a few more minutes with us, and that’s what you’re going to ask?” Sam interjected, stepping between them. 

John sighed, staring Dean down for a minute before tearing his eyes away. “So, you boys locked up the devil?” 

“Yessir,” Sam said, standing up straighter. “Stopped the apocalypse, too.” Something in Sam’s voice was goading, a challenge. Like he wanted John to look at Dean, to look at Sam, and see the good they’d done for the world. 

But John didn’t take the bait. Instead, he shifted his gaze to his youngest son. “Adam, I’m sorry. I never wanted this for you.” 

“Not your fault,” Adam said stepping forward and suddenly pulling John into a hug. John patted his back awkwardly and then stepped back. 

“You sure you don’t want my help crawling out of the pit?” he said, glancing around the dry, hopeless place. “Do you have a plan?” 

“We got it. Learned from the best,” Dean said with a tight smile. In his mind, all he could hear was _never again_. Over and over and over, John’s voice echoed loudly. 

Sam turned his back to the group and muttered under his breath, “Maybe he’s got a point, Dean.”

Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side, a couple feet from the rest of them. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, we could use all the help we can get, you know? And it’s Dad. We can send him back to Heaven as soon as we’re at the top of that mountain.” 

Dean bit his lip and glanced back at their father. “With Cas, do you really think that’s a good idea?” 

“What was that about anyway?” 

Dean glanced away and Sam grabbed his shoulders, turning him back to face him. “Don’t worry about it. You really think we can’t get out of here without Dad?”

Sam shrugged. “I think we got a better chance with him.”

Dean rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It’s just… I can’t- I can’t let him into my head again, man. And if he comes with us…” 

His brother nodded slowly, his face twisting in concern. “I hear you, I do. But, we have to get out, you know? He knows that spell, he knows how to escape them. He’s good, Dean, you have to admit that. And it’s not like he’s coming topside with us.” 

Dean hesitated--if Sam only knew everything--then he threw up his hands in defeat and walked back to the group. “Change of plans, he comes with us.” He felt Cas’ glare on the back of his head as he walked away, but he didn’t care. He’d put up with the man for years, he could do it for a couple more days if it meant getting his brother out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are lowkey like the best things ngl


	11. Evadere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: homophobic language

_And though it's always been with me_   
_I must tear down the wall and let it be_

* * *

John and Sam were asleep, and Cas was keeping watch. They’d decided to wait a few hours before moving on, giving everyone time to recuperate after the demon attack.

Dean had told Adam to get some rest too, but his brother had stared at him with vacant eyes then quietly muttered, “I’m okay.” And Dean didn’t blame him. He felt the same--there was no way he’d be able to sleep, even for a few hours. 

Which left him sitting in a cave, staring at the younger brother he barely knew. 

He wiped some sweat from his forehead and pulled his shirt forward, trying to cool off in the oppressive heat. “One more day, kid. One more day till you’re free.” 

Adam shifted against the wall and met Dean’s eyes. “What’s the point?” And Dean heard the unspoken words too. His mother was dead, his friends thought he was dead, he probably felt dead. He was probably wanted by the angels. He had no life to go back to, but anything would be better than being in the cage. 

Dean took a drink from his flask, barely registering the burn as the liquid slipped down his throat and then he leaned forward. “I know we don’t know each other well… but you’re family. And Sam and I don’t leave family behind. I know Dad wasn’t really there for you, but if you want, you can come with us. And if you don’t want to… cuz this life… I’m not recommending it. Just know it’s a helluva lot easier if we stick together.” Adam was just staring at him, his eyes curious and his head tilted to the side. 

“I...”

“Either way, we’ll still take care of you. We’ll make sure you’re okay, got it? I promise.” 

“You’ll keep me safe?” Adam said, almost in a whisper. Dean smiled sadly. He was just a kid, and he was here, cleaning up Sam and Dean’s mess. 

_No_ , he corrected. _The angel’s mess._

“Yes-” he stopped himself. He couldn’t promise anything. “We’ll try.”

“The angels-” Adam stammered, then he stopped. He still hadn’t spoken much. And he was still terrified. 

“We got Cas. And we’ve dealt with these douchebags before. We can handle it.” 

“Thanks,” Adam said, breaking eye contact finally and looking at the floor. 

“You’re family,” Dean repeated. He looked over at his dad’s sleeping form and silently, he added, _Dad’s family_. Because that’s what it came down to, family first. So as much as he wanted to follow Cas and leave John to rot in Hell, he couldn’t.

Really, it was Dean who belonged in Hell. Who was nothing. Who deserved nothing. 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut to stop that train of thought and glanced over at Adam. 

“Adam?”

His brother looked up again and met his eyes, his cheeks sunken and his face devoid of expression. 

“I’m sorry. You were just a kid. You weren’t part of all of this. And you shouldn’t have gotten dragged into it. I wish-” Dean paused, knowing how stupid he sounded. None of this would change anything. Adam was just another one of John Winchester’s greatest hits. “I wish you had gotten the option to stay out.” 

Adam’s face didn’t change, but Dean thought he saw a slight glisten in his eyes. “I know.” Then he turned and laid down on the hard floor, leaving Dean to wait alone for the others to wake up. 

He shifted his gaze to the angel keeping watch and smiled a little despite himself. Then he leaned back against the hard wall, content to watch Cas’ steady form backlit by the fires of Hell. 

\-------

The mountain rose sharply from the barren landscape, a single peak stretching toward the sky. At its peak, thick red clouds gathered, and the storms that blanketed Hell thundered loudly.

They’d gotten there without seeing any more demons, and it had only taken half of the morning (or at least what Dean was terming morning). It’d been a quiet, tense walk. Cas led the way, and he refused every attempt at conversation Dean made. But Dean stayed with him anyway, because behind him John walked with Sam and Adam. And a silent Cas was better than John.

Sam and his father talked quietly of the world John had left behind, Sam filling in some of the details of the time he’d been gone. Dean noticed that Sam glossed over almost everything involving Cas, instead choosing to say “the angels” or “we.” He was grateful. The sooner they could get John up to Heaven, the better. He didn’t need to be in their lives again. Adam walked silently next to them, but his eyes were alert for the first time since they’d left the cage. 

“So, this is it,” Sam breathed softly.

Dean almost couldn't believe they were here. This was it, their way out. With not a demon in sight. The mountain looked huge from far away, but up close he could tell it wouldn’t be more than an hour hike to the top. 

“This is it,” Dean repeated. 

Cas walked over to the thin trail that snaked its way up the black mountain and started up it, and Sam and Adam followed closely behind. 

“Dean,” his father’s voice was gruff but firm. “Walk with me, would you?” 

And Dean wanted to run to the front, with Cas, with his brothers. He wanted to disobey his father. He wanted to escape him for now, because in a little while he would never see him again. And any conversation he had with him would set him back years in freeing his mind from the man. 

But it was an order, however thinly veiled, and it was his father. So he nodded and fell in step with him, several paces behind the others. Dean clenched and unclenched his fists, the pressure in his hands calming him down. Then he wiped sweat from his eyes and looked at his father, whose eyes were fixed on the others walking in front of them. 

“Sam told me about the deal. That was stupid, Dean.”

Dean breathed deeply through his nose, determined to go along, to end this conversation as soon as possible. “I was taking care of him. Better me than him, right?”

John didn’t answer and Dean knew he agreed. Better that his older son, the dissapointment, the fag who could never live up to his expectations go to Hell. Better his perfect younger son live on. Better Dean finally did his job--keep Sammy safe--instead of failing like he always did. He was nothing but a- 

“After everything, you’re fucking an angel?” It was delivered quietly, probably so the others wouldn’t hear, but the sudden bluntness and edge to John’s voice took Dean aback, and for a second he just stared at him, his eyes wide. In seconds, he was seventeen again, face down in the mud. Bile rose in his throat and he fought to push it down, to get rid of the memory playing in his mind. 

“I’m not- we- it’s not-” he stammered, his stomach churning. 

“You’re disgusting,” John spat, his voice dripping with venom. 

And maybe it was that John was doing this when they were rescuing him from Hell, helping him to _Heaven_ ; maybe it was Cas walking twenty feet away; maybe it was Sam’s soft smile, his quiet acceptance; maybe it was even that Dean realized he had no reason to be taking shit for any of this, but Dean snapped. 

He twisted his shoulders, throwing every ounce of rejection, of pain, of fear into the move, and punched John square in the jaw. Exactly where Cas had hit him. John went reeling and slammed into the side of the mountain the trail hugged. John raised his fists, but Sam and Cas were already running back down the mountain, and Cas grabbed his wrists and held him back. 

“I don’t need to explain myself to you. Now or ever!” His chest rose and fell rapidly, but his mind was clear.

John pushed against Cas, staring Dean down. “I die, and you forget everything I gave you. We’re family, boy!” He snarled. 

Dean glanced at Sam, afraid his brother would disagree, would try to stop this. But he didn’t. He just crossed his arms over his chest and looked at their father with slitted eyes. 

Dean stepped forward, placing his face inches from his father’s, finally looking him in the eye without shrinking back. “You gave me nothing. You told me I was nothing. And I believed you. Cuz you were my dad. But you’re wrong.” Dean felt his hands shaking and he clenched his fists to steady himself. “You’re wrong. Family is more than blood. And there’s nothing wrong with- nothing wrong with-”

“With what,” John tried to free his arms from Cas’ grasp, “being a fag?” 

Behind him, Cas’ eyes narrowed and lit up, but Dean’s fist struck first, slamming into his father’s gut. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he spat. Then he punched John right in the diaphragm, leaving him gasping for air. “Fuck you.” 

John tried to lean against Cas to recover his breath, but the angel pushed him off, sending him tumbling forward. Seemingly unable to think of a reply, he turned to Sam. “What about you, boy? Proud of the little twink your brother has become?” 

But it wasn’t Sam or Dean who answered. “Shut up.” Dean turned to see Adam walking forward from where he had been standing passively for the whole exchange. 

“Adam,” John sneered. “You a queer too?” 

“I thought-” he stuttered, his voice weak and his face downcast. Then his eyes hardened and he continued, raising his chin in defiance. “I thought you were an okay dad. I never really saw you, but you were there, sometimes. I told myself better than nothing,” he said with a small shrug. “But you’re saying all this to the guy who’s trying to save you, despite _everything_. You’re a shit father, John Winchester. Leave my brother alone.”

 _Brother_. Dean glanced at Adam in surprise, but he gave him a small smile. Then he stepped back from John, and for a moment, everything was quiet.

Dean glanced back at Sam and his younger brother searched his face, as if trying to make sure he was okay. After a minute, he turned to look at their father. “It’s time, Cas,” Sam said. “And Dad, I’m proud of Dean. I always will be. So, what he said. Fuck you.” 

John looked between his three sons, his eyes wild and rabid, and he opened his mouth, spit flying from his lips. “You all-”

Before he could finish the thought his body started to glow and collapse into a small ball of white light. 

“You don’t get to talk anymore,” Cas said from behind him. His eyes were lit up, and he had a hand thrust forward, holding the ball in place. It floated for a minute, and Cas looked at Dean. 

“Are you sure?” He asked softly. 

Dean was still breathing heavy, but he took a deep breath and steadied himself. “He can’t hurt anyone else up there.” 

Cas narrowed his eyes and he looked at him carefully, then he relaxed when he realized Dean was serious.

“I don’t care whether he’s in Heaven or Hell. As long as he’s far away from us.”

Cas’ eyes flashed white and the glowing soul lifted into the air, disappearing into the red smoke billowing in Hell’s sky. 

Lightning cracked in the distance, and they all snapped out of the trance that had settled over them. 

“Let’s get the hell outta… well, Hell,” Dean muttered, pushing past them without making eye contact. A sinking feeling of shame had settled over him when John left. A realization that he couldn’t deny who he was anymore, couldn’t pretend anymore. And he hated it. 

He didn’t turn around to see if they were following him, but he heard their whispers. 

“Should I-” That was Cas, his gravelly voice even lower when he tried to hide it. 

“Let him be,” Sam said quietly. 

Dean felt blood rush to his head and he shook himself. They were being supportive. He couldn’t get mad about that. And he knew the red spreading across his face was more from shame than anything else. 

Over the last few days, his lungs had gotten used to the poison fog that filled Hell, but as they neared the top of the mountain, he felt himself choking and coughing. His lungs constricted, wanting to spit the air out as soon as it entered, and he felt his head start to spin as the lack of oxygen grew worse. 

_So, you’re weak,_ John’s voice came in the back of his mind. He pushed it down immediately. John was gone. Forever. 

“I can help,” Cas’ quiet voice behind him said. 

Dean ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as the dirt and grit rubbed over his fingers. “Huh?” 

Cas sped up to walk next to him. “Sam and Adam are more used to this. Your body will start to shut down soon.”

“Okay.” He stopped walking and turned to the angel with open arms. “What can you do?” 

Cas smiled and stepped forward, raising his hand. He hesitated for a moment, then gently put his hand on Dean’s cheek. His eyes lit up and Dean felt a wave of warmth rush over him. When it was gone, he sucked in a deep breath and his head immediately felt clearer. 

“Thanks, Cas,” he said as Cas lowered his hand back to his side. 

Cas gave a tight smile. “Of course.” He stared at Dean intently, as if memorizing every part of his face. 

“You good?” 

Cas shifted his eyes away and didn’t say anything, instead continuing down the trail. 

A warning bell went off in the back of Dean’s mind. Cas’ shoulders were tense and they were shaking slightly in front of him. But they were in Hell, and he was an angel. That had to be what was wrong. 

Dean continued on the thin trail, followed closely by Sam and Adam. As they rose higher, the trail became more of an extension of the mountain itself--slick black rock that inclined sharply down to the cracked desert floor below them. He put his hands out to steady himself, then turned the corner of the trail to the opening of a wide obsidian plateau. 

Cas was already standing in the center, in front of the portal that rose from the ground. It was glassy black and shaped like a door. Even with Cas standing directly in front of it, there was no reflection. Just deep, impossibly dark black. 

They crossed the plateau and stood next to Cas. Dean pulled the rings from his pocket and noticed they were vibrating slightly, reacting to the place they were forged. 

“How does this work, Cas?” He asked, pressing the three rings into the angel’s outstretched hand. 

Cas hesitated, glancing between the door and the rings. Then he took a deep breath and looked at Dean with a defiant pout. “You each take one of the rings and walk through.” 

His heart froze, but he didn’t know why. It took a minute for the words to sink in. For Dean’s brain to catch up to his rapid breathing. 

“No,” he managed to stammer out. 

“What’re you saying, Cas?” Sam stepped up to the portal and put his hand on it, finding it immovable. Just a black wall that needed a key. 

“There are three rings. I’m not going with you,” Cas said simply, his eyes fixed on Dean. There was an apology there, but also stubborn resistance. Dean felt his heart beating faster, thoughts filling his head. He was going to lose Cas. He couldn’t lose Cas. 

“Like hell you aren’t,” he said, his voice rising. He felt his fists shake at his sides and he clenched them tightly, glancing around for something to slam them into. 

“It’s the only way, Dean. There were only three rings. And we needed to get Sam and Adam out as soon as possible. I didn’t know if you would be okay with this plan if you knew it meant I had to stay behind.” 

“Of course I wouldn’t have!” He shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “Christ, Cas, we aren’t leaving you in Hell. No fucking way.” His eyes landed on the shiny black portal, and he rammed his fist into it, hearing his knuckles crack beneath the force. The portal remained untouched. 

“Dean’s right, Cas,” Sam added, pushing Dean away from the wall. Dean turned his back to the group, looking out at Hell, his shoulders shaking. “We aren’t leaving you.” 

“You got us out,” Adam added. 

“You’re brothers,” Cas said quietly. “You’re family. You all are leaving. I’ll find my own way out.”

Dean pressed a hand to his forehead. The initial spike of anger was leaving him and now hopelessness and devastation were taking over. Sam and Adam had fallen silent, and when he turned back around they were staring at the ground with pursed lips. 

“We- I need you,” Dean said, his voice low but forceful. “We’ll send Sam and Adam through and you and I will find another way out.” 

“No, Dean-” Sam started.

“I’ve made my decision. I made it before we even came down here. When I talked Bobby into lying to you. This isn’t a discussion. You need to save your brothers. I want to help you, I want to do this. I’d-” Cas paused and shut his eyes tightly. “I’d do anything for you.” 

“Dammit, Cas. This isn’t what I want.” He walked over to the angel, his eyes stinging. 

There was a rumble to their left and they all turned, pulling weapons out. “What’s the problem, boys? Ain’t got the key?” The voice rang out, seeming to echo. A group of demons emerged from the shadows all the way on the other side of the flat black expanse. 

“You need to leave,” Cas said, pulling the rings apart and thrusting one into Sam and Adam’s hands. “Now,” he shouted, his voice deepening into a rumble. 

“Get Adam out, Sammy,” Dean yelled, glancing anxiously at the demons across from them. They were rapidly covering the ground of the plateau, they would be on them in just a few seconds. His eyes prickled and he felt them filling up with tears, but he held them back and pushed Adam toward Sam. 

For a second, Sam looked at Dean, desperation in his eyes, then he looked back at the demons and grabbed Adam, clutching his ring and pulling him through the door. They seemed to meld into the darkness, folding into the glassy black. Then they were gone. 

A loud booming voice echoed in Dean’s ears and he looked back to see Cas speaking in his true voice. It was enochian, and Dean couldn’t understand any of it. But even as he watched a soft glow settled over the black and the demons fell to the ground, clutching their ears. 

“That won’t hold them,” Cas said in his regular voice. “You need to leave.” 

“I can’t.” Tears were falling freely down Dean’s face now and he clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into his skin. 

“Dean, please.”

“Cas, I-’’ He stopped. He couldn’t say it. Instead, he stepped toward the angel and pulled him toward him. 

He cupped Cas’ face and leaned down slightly, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. It was mixed with the tears on his face and the blood and grime from their time in Hell, but it was so impossibly sweet. Cas kissed him back, threading his hands into Dean’s hair and pulling him closer. 

Then his hands were on Dean’s chest, pushing firmly. Their kiss broke, and Dean looked into the angel’s eyes to see tears swimming in them. 

“Goodbye, Dean,” he said through gritted teeth. Dean looked behind them to see the demons standing up and brandishing their weapons, but he was already falling, Cas’ hands pushing him firmly backwards. 

The blackness filled him. His lungs felt like they were filling up with water, and everything around him was dark. And then he was coming out the other side, tumbling into the light. 

He stayed where he landed, blinking wordlessly at Bobby and his brothers. Tears were still wet on his cheeks and his whole body was shaking. 

Cas was gone. 


	12. Solum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: suicide (see end notes for more detail)

_All I am_  
_And all that I was ever meant to be_  
_In harmony_

* * *

He was nothing. 

He was worthless. 

The gun felt strange in his hands. He didn’t want to use his own. It felt like an insult to the weapon that had been so loyal to him, had gotten him out of so many scrapes. So he’d taken one of Bobby’s. It was black. All function, no beauty. But it would do the job. 

The weight didn’t feel right, but he didn’t have time or energy left to care.

He should have gone to the bathroom, to the shower. Make cleanup easier. But somehow Bobby’s old desk, his falling apart leather chair felt right.

Outside, the world was waking up. Birds called softly to each other and the first rays of dawn rested on the desk next to him. Another day, a new beginning. One he wouldn’t be a part of. 

Cas’ voice echoed in his head. 

_“Goodbye, Dean.”_

Cas...

The one who had pulled Dean from Hell. Had told him that he was righteous, that he was worthy, that God had a plan for him. 

The one who had chosen him over God, over Heaven, over everyone else. 

Again and again and again. 

He had been the one who thought he could be saved in the first place. He had been the one who thought he did something for this sorry world. He had been the one who made Dean feel like maybe he didn’t need to carry around this burning ball of shame and guilt. 

But now he was gone. 

Which meant what Cas had believed didn’t matter. This world would be better off without him. 

Despite his swirling thoughts, his hands were steady as he placed the gun in his mouth. 

It was weird, really, how well the pistol fit. His jaw relaxed around it, and the cold metal slotted right between his teeth. It was too easy. 

He knew he had to do this. He’d let Cas down, had left him for dead. His fingers started to tighten around the trigger, and that’s when his hand started to shake. After years of fighting, of clawing his way away from death, of scratching and kicking and biting and struggling just to escape it’s jaws, it was hard to just give into it. 

Then he saw Cas’ eyes. Blue, clear, innocent. He felt his lips pressed against his, salty tears fresh on his cheeks. He felt the hands push his chest, push him away. He saw hoards of demons hurtling toward the angel. 

Cas was his home and now his home was gone.

He took a deep breath in as his finger pulled the trigger.

He waited for the pain, the heat, the blackness that would come. He waited for the face of a reaper, ready to take him wherever he was going next, be it Heaven or Hell, or some other godforsaken prison. 

But all he heard was a soft click. 

He ignored the tears streaming down his face and he pulled the trigger again. And again. And again. Each time he was greeted with a soft click. No blinding pain, no sweet release. 

Just more tears. 

“I took them out, Dean.” He turned to see his brother standing in the doorway, his face drawn and his arms crossed. Slowly, he pulled the gun from his mouth, quickly wiping tears from his cheeks and pushing his chair back from Bobby’s desk. 

“What the hell, Sammy?”

“I can’t let you die. You don’t want to die. You don’t deserve to die. Cas wouldn’t have wanted-” 

Dean slammed the gun on the table and stood up.

“It doesn’t matter what Cas wanted, Sam. He’s gone. He’s dead.” He was shouting but he didn’t care. He pointed at the gun. “Newsflash, Sam, _this_ is what I deserve. And you don’t need me anymore, you have Adam now. Maybe it’s what I’ve always deserved,” he added, his voice breaking. 

Sam crossed the room and stood in front of him, and folded his arms over his chest. His head was tilted slightly. Dean could barely see his face through the blur of tears, but he thought he saw a tear slip down his brother’s face too. 

“He’s dead,” he repeated in a whisper. “Sammy… he’s dead and I can’t do this any-”

Sam pulled him into a hug and he let him because he didn’t know what to do anymore and it was Sammy. His baby brother who he’d taken care of and looked out for his whole life. That was his job, his only job and he was giving up on it.

“But what if he’s not dead, Dean? I don’t know if we’re going to find him. I don’t… I don’t know if we’re going to break him out of wherever he is. If I’m being honest...” Sam took a shaky breath, “I don’t know if he’s at peace or if he’s suffering. But I know this isn’t what he wanted. He- He didn’t want you to _die_ when he sacrificed himself for us. He knew this world needed you, otherwise he wouldn’t have done it. So promise me, Dean. Promise me you won’t let him die in vain.” Dean’s shoulders were shaking and he clung onto Sam, desperate to not be alone. 

“Okay, Sammy… I promise.” 

Sam held him, letting him sob into his shoulders. “Thank you.”

“I loved him, Sam.” It was a whisper, barely audible. The first time he’d ever said it out loud, and Cas wouldn’t even hear it. He felt his brother nod.

“I know you did. He loved you too.” 

Dean took a deep breath in and buried his face further into Sam’s shoulder. “I should have told him. It would have made him happy. I should have let him be happy. Why did he let me take that away from him, Sammy? Why did he let me use him and hurt him over and over? Why did he keep coming back?” He pulled back from his brother and looked him in the eyes, heart pounding.

Sam smiled softly and quirked his eyebrows. “Because he loved you. It didn’t matter what you did. The good far outweighed the bad, just like it always has.” 

“What if we don’t find him? What if this is it?” He glanced at the ceiling, as if the answer would suddenly appear. 

Sam ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the desk behind him. “We’ll keep looking for him. For as long as we can. But if we don’t, then we fight, Dean. We save people and you try to be happy, to find some peace, because that’s what Cas needs. That’s all he’s ever needed.” Dean laughed bitterly and reached for the bottle he’d left by the chair. After taking a drink he turned back to Sam. 

“Happy... I have no idea how to be happy anymore. Maybe years ago I did, but I have no idea now.” Sam nodded and took the bottle from him, taking a drink. 

“Me neither,” Sam said with a small laugh. “But you have me, you have Adam, you have Bobby. We’re your family. And I know family hasn’t always made you happy, but let’s try it. Let’s try to be enough.”

Dean smiled sadly and looked down at the discarded, empty gun. 

“You can’t give up on me. I won’t let you.” 

Dean held up his hands in defeat and nodded. “Alright, Sammy. Let’s try to be happy.” Dean picked the gun up and handed it to his brother, then he walked out of the room. 

Sam followed him, jogging a little to catch up. “Where are you going?” 

“Something I have to do,” Dean said with a shrug. Sam’s eyes narrowed as they pushed out of Bobby’s house into the yard. “Relax, man.”

“Well, I’m coming.” 

“Fine.” 

\-------

The drive was quiet, and Dean itched to turn on music the whole time, just to have something to fill the silence. But he didn’t, instead letting his thoughts take over. He thought back to the last time he’d made this drive. He’d been broken, defeated, lost, and Cas had been there with him. Just like he always was. 

When they were close, Sam leaned forward in his seat, understanding dawning on his face. “Is this the-”

“Yeah, it is.” 

The cemetery was greener than the last time he was there. Old graves lay around the open grassy field, and a cool wind blew. The sky was covered in clouds, and Dean shivered a little as they stepped out. 

“I just need to find something,” Dean muttered, pulling a spade from the back of the Impala. Sam raised his eyebrows, but he grabbed one too. Together they walked into the open field. 

Dean tried to picture where he had been when he had vowed to get his brother back. He had been on his knees, staring with broken eyes into the dry ground. He kneeled in what felt like the right place, and started digging. 

Sam got down next to him, grunting as his legs bent into the uncomfortable position, and jammed his spade into the ground. “What’re we looking for?” 

Dean looked up at his brother. The wind was blowing his hair in front of his face. Despite the fact that Sam looked exhausted and defeated, he was crouching down, digging in the dirt for some unknown object his brother wanted to find. He looked at his hands, peering into the hole he’d dug and moving the dirt to the side to see. There was nothing there.

Starting in another place, he responded, “A ring.” He looked up at Sam, whose eyes immediately fell to his hands, to his empty finger. His mouth opened and he raised his eyebrows, understanding. 

“Mom’s ring.” 

Dean exhaled through his nose and nodded, running a hand through his hair. 

“Why’d you bury Mom’s ring?” 

Dean started yet another hole, discarding the spade and instead digging with his fingers, feeling the dirt cover his hands. 

“Dean-”

“I don’t know, Sam. Okay? It was stupid. I wanted-” he trailed off, seeing a glint of silver in the dirt below his hands. 

“I wanted you to have Mom with you,” he finished quietly. 

He fished the ring from the dirt, looking up at his brother’s face. Sam’s eyes had gone soft, and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned. 

Dean held out the ring to him, then muttered, “I still want you to have her with you.”

Sam tilted his head and pressed the ring back into Dean’s outstretched palm. “No. You need her more right now. Besides, it probably wouldn’t fit me. I have normal hands and not dainty lady fingers,” he added with a smirk. 

“Shut up,” Dean said, taking the ring. 

Dirt covered the beautiful silver, and a small bug was nestled on the inside of the ring. Dean brushed them away and then slipped it back onto his finger, feeling the familiar twist as he moved it into place. 

“She would have liked him, you know.”

“What?” Dean asked cautiously. 

“Mom would have liked Cas. To hell with Dad… she would have been proud of you.”

Dean felt his stomach tighten and he stood up, dusting off his jeans. “Doesn’t matter now, does it.” Then, after a beat of silence, he added, “Let’s get out of here.” 

The grass was wet beneath their feet as they walked back to the car, each step trapping their feet in the ground before they pulled them back out with a large squelch. 

Baby sat waiting for them, as pristine and shining as ever, and Dean let a hand rest fondly on her hood before he slid into the car, Sam right beside him. 

He twisted the ring around once, then started the car. In his mind, he saw Cas sitting behind the wheel, his eyes wide and his feet unsure. He pushed down the tears that threatened to rise again, and shifted into gear, finally driving away from the cursed cemetery where he’d lost his brother. 

\-------

It’d only been four days since they got back from Hell, but it felt like an eternity. Bobby kept asking questions: Where was Cas? What did they see down there? Were they okay?

Dean kept his answers short, leaving the details out. He was pretty sure Sam filled him in when he wasn’t there, because eventually the questions stopped. 

Surprisingly, out of the three of them, Adam was adjusting the best. He worked with Bobby in the yard learning the ropes. By the end of the third day he could name just about every part under the hood and what to do when something was wrong with it. In the evenings, Bobby would hand him old books full of lore and help him flip through, answering any questions that popped up. 

His eyes were still sunken, and sometimes he would freeze, staring into the distance as some memory of the cage filled his mind, but he would snap back to the present almost as quickly. 

Dean was outside, staring up at the stars on the hood of Baby when Adam found him. 

“Want to go grab something to eat with Sam and I?” Adam asked, resting his hands on the car.

Dean sat up, dangling his feet over the side. “It’s sort of late… I think I might turn in.”

“Sam said you should come with us.” 

He rolled his eyes, then raised them to the stars, trying to count the infinite multitudes of them. “Well, if Sam said so…” He hopped off the car and followed Adam inside, grabbing a jacket. 

The three brothers walked back to the Impala, the gravel crunching softly beneath their feet. Sam stopped outside the door, resting his hands on the hood and clearing his throat as if he was about to say something, but Dean swung the driver’s door open and got inside, so Sam followed him. 

There was a little diner just a little ways away from Bobby’s house, and when they pulled up, the lot was almost entirely empty. 

A tired looking waitress led them to a booth and took their order--Sam and Adam got burgers and fries, and Dean got pie--then she disappeared into the kitchen and they were alone. 

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and yawned, then turned to Adam who was on the bench next to him. “So, what’s next?” 

Adam picked up the salt shaker and rolled it in his hand, then set it back on the table with a loud click. “I think- I mean if it’s okay- I think I’ll stay with you guys. Bobby’s been teaching me a lot, and I don’t really have anywhere else to go…”

“Course it’s okay,” Sam said, smiling. “Right, Dean?” 

Dean looked up from the table, trying to bring his eyes into focus, then he cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course. I told you, man, you’re family. We don’t-” He cleared his throat again and let his fist fall quietly on the table, “We don’t leave family behind.”

Silence fell over the table and Dean’s mind started thinking about Cas again. He’d left him behind. And he was so much more than family. Dean looked out the window and twisted the ring on his finger. “I took Cas here,” he said quietly, resting his hand on the smooth table. 

“We’ll find him,” Sam said quietly. 

Dean paused for a minute, staring at the table, then he looked back at his brother, trying to ignore the wetness in his eyes. “I taught-” he took a deep breath, “I taught him to drive. While you were gone.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 

Dean smiled at the memory. “He was terrible. Worse than you.”

The waitress arrived, setting plates of burgers and fries in front of them before leaving. 

“I don’t know how to,” Adam said, squirting a large pile of ketchup next to his fries.

“You don’t know how to drive?” Sam said, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. 

“Well,” Adam took a bite of his burger, and Dean looked up from his plate, trying to ignore the hollowness that still filled him. He was with his brothers, with his family. He was okay. “I know how to drive automatic.”

Sam laughed and looked at Dean, waiting for the inevitable explosion, but Dean just set his fork back on his plate and looked at Adam blankly. 

“An automatic?” Sam answered for him. “That doesn’t count.”

“My mom hated manuals; she never learned. So it was easier to just drive automatic. There was no one else to teach me, I guess. One year when John came-” He stopped suddenly at the mention of their father, glancing cautiously at Dean. “Anyway, just never had time to learn I guess.” 

“You can learn on Baby,” Dean said, ignoring his pause. John was gone forever.

“Awesome,” Adam said, smiling and digging into his burger. 

They fell into companionable silence, eating while soft rock played over head until Sam and Adam were almost done with their food. Dean had barely touched his pie. But despite the heavy weight pressing down, he felt himself lift a little. These were his brothers, and they were a distraction. A distraction from Cas’ eyes, from the tears, from the heavy hands on his chest, from the soft lips-

Sam dropped a couple bills on the table and stood. “You ready to go?” 

“Sure,” Dean said, sliding out of the booth. “I have to run to the bathroom first.”

Sam’s eyes immediately narrowed. “You okay?” 

“Relax, man, I’m fine. Wanna hold my hand or something?” Dean tried for his old voice. His devil-may-care voice that had worked to hide the pain so well before. But his voice caught in his throat and he ended up sounding broken and desperate. Sam gulped and leaned forward a little, his lips pursed. He didn’t try to stop Dean, though. 

He tried to be quick. Any time alone meant time with his thoughts, blue eyes swimming with tears crowding his vision. But he’d needed a minute, just to gather himself.

Dean had taken Cas here while they were staying at Bobby’s. Just a quick burger to break up the monotony of flipping through old books. Cas had just gotten a coffee, grumbling that it tasted like molecules. Dean would like to think that Cas still enjoyed himself as much as Dean had. It was so easy with him.

He took a deep breath and studied the tile wall in front of him. Plain white, boring. Not broken. He slammed his hand into it, letting the pain shoot up his arm. He let his hand rest there for a minute, leaning heavily against the wall and breathing deeply through his mouth. Then he pushed out into the hallway. 

He was surprised to see a figure standing in the middle, a cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes. Dean held the door open for him with his fingertips, waiting for him to walk in. But he just stood there, unmoving. There was something familiar about him, about the way he held himself. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” the man said softly. “Didn’t take long to find you, Winchester.” And Dean knew the voice. It was the voice that had come out of the shadows in Hell. The demon that had trapped them, tortured them. The demon that had taken Cas. 

“Never thought I’d see your ugly mug again,” Dean said, his voice tight. He didn’t have a gun on him, or the demon knife. Sam had been kind enough to relieve him of both, ‘just in case’ as he put it. He’d tucked a small hunting knife into his shoe, but there was no way he could reach down and get it in time. 

“I’m wounded. This is one of the prettiest meatsuits I've had.” 

“How’d you get out anyway?”

“C’mon, Dean, you don’t care ‘bout that. Ask what you really want to know,” the demon sneered. 

Dean breathed in sharply, tempted to mouth off again, but he could actually know. “Where’s Cas?” 

“Oh, you mean your boyfriend?” The demon stepped forward and lifted Dean’s collar, holding him against the wall, “The angel’s far away. Dead for all I know.”

“Shut up.” His voice had dropped to a whisper, but it hadn’t lost any of his edge. With the words, he lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes, daring the demon to try something. 

The demon laughed and raised one hand, nails sharp. Before he could dig his nails into Dean, he arched his back and cried out, orange light spreading from his chest up to his eyes. Then he collapsed, and Dean fell back to the floor. 

“You okay?” That was Sam, standing somewhere above him. Dean breathed in slowly, trying to control himself, but his fists were shaking and his eyes were starting to fill. He wiped them angrily and stood up, pushing Sam off. 

“I’m good. Let’s go home.” 

When Sam got in the driver’s seat, Dean didn’t argue. He let Adam sit in the front and climbed into the backseat. 

“This is good,” Sam was saying. “If he got out, Cas might have too.”

Dean didn’t answer. He looked out the window and watched a telephone wire next to the road. It dipped up and down, connecting in a steady pattern. The stars behind it were dim, covered in clouds. 

Bobby’s gravelly drive hummed under the wheels as they pulled into the house. Dean climbed out of the backseat, his eyes fixed on the dark ground. 

They walked inside quietly, Dean’s eyes watching his feet. When they walked into the living room, Sam stopped suddenly. 

“Holy shit,” Sam breathed. 

Dean raised his eyes to follow Sam’s gaze, and his heart stopped. Because he was dreaming, he had to be dreaming. Because there was no way that his angel was standing in front of him, trench coat hanging in tatters at his side. Because _Cas_ was standing in the living room, healing a cut on his arm. 

“Cas?” he whispered, taking a cautious step forward. “Are you- Is it really-”

Bobby stepped forward from behind Cas, holding up a silver knife with fresh blood covering the edge. “It’s really him Dean.” Dean fixed his eyes on the angel, barely registering the words. “I was gonna call you guys once I finished every test, but then you got back. It’s really him.” 

Cas’ eyes were fixed on Dean. He looked small, vulnerable. He didn’t move from his place, his eyes wide and his lips hanging open just a little too far. He looked terrified. Scared that Dean would be pissed, would go off at him because last time they’d seen each other Cas had pushed him away. 

Before he realized what he was doing, Dean crossed the room, almost running and wrapped his arms around the angel. “You made it,” he whispered into his shoulder. Cas returned the hug, holding on just as tightly. 

They were like that for a little while until Dean pulled away, lacing their fingers together. “How- I mean the demons- How did you get out?” 

Cas smiled, his eyes on Dean almost as if he was the only one in the room. “I told you I would find my own way out. They wanted to kill me, but I told them they’d never find you without me. So I said if they took me back to Earth, I would lead them to you. At first, they didn’t believe I would take them, probably because they saw us ki-” 

Dean cleared his throat loudly and glanced at the others.

Cas squinted at him, but continued. “Eventually, they realized they had no other option. We went through a backdoor for demons and angels, the security in Hell has fallen somewhat since Lucifer was locked away. Then once we were on Earth, I told the demons I would only take one of them to you. He was proud and foolish enough to believe he could take the Winchesters down alone.” Dean raised his eyebrows at that. “Once we were close, I was able to break down the warding on the cuffs enough to get to Bobby’s and warn you, but when I arrived… you were gone.”

“We were at the diner down the road,” Sam said. “Demon must of seen the car or something.”

“Well, it looks like you handled it,” Cas finished off with a smile. 

Dean smiled back at him, and he couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face. But he didn’t care, because Cas was actually back. Was standing right in front of him, their hands intertwined. 

Sam walked over and pulled Cas into a short hug. “It’s good to have you back, man.” Then he turned and looked meaningfully at Adam and Bobby, “We’ll give you guys a minute.” 

Once he heard the soft click of the door behind them, he began to talk. “Cas, I-”

The angel’s lips cut him off before he could finish the thought, pressed firmly against his. He smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms tightly around Cas, afraid that if he let go, he’d disappear. 

When they broke apart, Dean pressed his forehead into Cas’. “Don’t you ever leave me again.” 

“I won’t,” Cas said softly, raising a hand to gently stroke Dean’s cheek. 

“So you aren’t going back to Heaven?”

“We made a deal with Raphael. Maybe I will, someday, but I’m no leader. Heaven needs someone stronger, I see that now. I’d rather be here.” 

The curtains blew softly, and Dean realized with a detached interest that the window was open, cool night air seeping in and filling the room. He twisted the silver ring on his finger and looked down at the moonlight catching it with a dull gleam. Cas followed it and took Dean’s hand in his, one finger on the ring.

Dean breathed in and let his gaze drift slowly up, looking at Cas’ downturned face with soft eyes. “I should have told you.”

Cas frowned, raising his eyes from Dean’s hands to meet his eyes. “Told me what?” 

“That I- This. All of this. We could have had it. I could have let you be happy, and I just used you. Over and over. I couldn’t really say it, Cas, just cuz my dad was in my head, telling me I was nothing but a...” He trailed off and Cas squeezed his hand gently. “And I was wrong for doing that to you. I’m not making excuses, man. But, you’re an angel, and I thought I was… I just- I was scared, ya know?”

“I know,” Cas said softly. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For all of it.” 

To his surprise, Cas smiled and laughed softly. “Sorry? Dean, stop. I was there for you because I wanted to be, not because you used me. Stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault. I would have waited a lifetime for you, if that was what you needed.”

“Cas,” Dean said, pressing another soft kiss onto the angel’s mouth. The last part of the wall in his mind tumbled down, and the next words came easily. “I love you.” 

Cas got a dangerous glint in his eye and he smirked, pulling back a little. “I know.” 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with me to the end y'all :) i so appreciate all your comments and kudos!
> 
> tw: suicide, suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts--dean attempts suicide but is not injured at all


End file.
